#the only bad part about it is everything else surrounding it

[mev-fizzah-writes]

ᑎᑌᗰᗷ 𓌉◯𓇋

A/N: Continuation of Part 1 with you in a hospital and Damian scarred. You know he is, even if he won't tell you. Will he keep this secret for his blood sister/sibling or will he cave in and tell the family, the same family that caused this. TW: Substance abuse, abuse, alcoholism, brief mention of underage drinking, self harm etc

۫ ꣑ৎ"You really know how to make me cry" -Billie Eilish ۫ ꣑ৎ

Every point of your life could be summarised by one thing, harm. Back when your mother was still alive, when you lived with your step-father and even after Bruce had taken you in.

Harm. It was either you were the cause of it, or someone else. That's when the drinking started, back when you were sixteen you had your first sip of alcohol. Then you were eighteen and it was the only beverage you'd drink, not legal but it was Gotham so it wasn't hard to get alcohol. After two years of non-stop drinking, all you could see in the mirror was her. The droopy eyes and frail body, the silence followed you like it followed her.

Like mother like daughter right? Right.

The harsh, white lights pierced through your eyelids, pulling you back to a conscious state. There was the sound of a distant beat of a heart monitor, everything sounded mechanic. It was nothing like the filled silence in the bathroom. You squinted your eyes, trying to make sense of your surroundings, the faint smell of antiseptic and the plastic-feel sheets you lay on gave it away.

You lay, almost lifeless, on a hospital bad with an IV drip attached to your arms. It was like it was feeding life into you, replacing the smooth liquid that once graced your tongue. It made your head throb, like it was matching the beeping of the near by monitor. The pieces that led to here were starting to come back, filling you with dread.

There fragmented memories of broken glass, now your foot started to hurt, the bitter taste of alcohol and the looks of horror in Damian's eyes, it all resurfaced.

It was like the guilt was trying to drown you, the way it came down in waves. it was more potent than the hangover that held you down, the reality of your mistake hit like an axe to the skull. It was like your head was splitting in two, you were never supposed to come back to that place. You were never supposed to fail...but you did. And the obnoxious ceiling of the hospital was proof of your failure. It made your eyes sting, every second that goes by made the dam, you spent years perfecting, break. You've never fallen so far down. You've never felt so low.

As your eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lights you finally noticed him. Damian, the side of his head pressed against you bed and his hand loosely in yours. Even in his sleep he didn't look peaceful, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth down-turned, poor baby looked so miserable.

It was your fault

You moved your hand to his hair, gently, you played with it. He always had such nice hair, even when he first arrived. It must've been in his genes, a perfect mix of his mother and father...you on the other hand..

Despicable. Every shitty thing about Bruce and everything about your mother seemed to fit in a human shaped mould. A human shaped like you. You felt the coldness of the room hit your eyes, it made the tears over fill your eyes. They slipped down when Damian woke up, confusion evident on his face as he sat up, he didn't bother with the embarrassed act.

He was different, not instantly meeting your eyes. No, instead he looked at every wire coming off of you, then he met your eyes. He met them with caution, and you could feel the disgust and self hatred bubble in your stomach.

He shouldn't have seen that, no kid should see someone like that. His eyes, usually filled with determination and will, now displayed a storm of emotions-anger, worry, distrust. It was a vulnerability he almost never showed, now laid out for the world to see. The hurt in his face cut deeper than any blade, it stung harder than any reprimand ever would. You pleaded with your eyes for him not to say anything, there wasn't much more she could handle.

"Why..." he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and raw. Look at what you've done, you've failed it all. Failed at being a daughter, a student, a robin and now you've failed him. You failed at being a sister. "How long-"

"It was one slip up, just one I promise." Desperation laced your voice as you sat up. It was just one.

His jaw hung open as he tried to get the word out, he didn't want to be interrupted, he didn't want to be comforted, he wanted to angry but he didn't know who to blame.

"No, don't interrupt me. One? It wasn't one slip up, it was a big one." He was right, and that made it hurt so much more. In your mind, Damian was one of your strongest siblings ever, he always knew what to say, so watching his chin wobble and his mind scramble for words made your heart drop further and further. "...was it me?"

Huh...

Why, on this god given earth, would he ever think that? You watched him as he clamped his hands together and the way his voice was barely audible. Oh God...why would he think that? The question repeated in your head as he waited for an answer.

"No. Not in a million year Dami." You looked him dead in the eyes as the words left your tongue, it was obvious that he wasn't fully convinced. You couldn't stand seeing him like this, "come here." You tapped the spot next to you, beckoning to come here. He does exactly that and you gently pull him closer. The room is quiet, just slow beeps coming from the corner. He hesitates before allowing his head to rest on your shoulder. With your head resting a top of his, Damian hold onto you. He's holding tight, like you'll float away if he lets go. His grip is firm but gentler, a silent way of him saying 'I'm here.'

"I'm so sorry." You whisper, knowing it's probably not the words he wants to here right now. You can tell with the slight tremble of his hands. It makes you think, is this how you would've reacted if your mother survived that night? Would you have hugged her? Would you have asked her?

For a while neither of you speak, words weren't necessary. Right now you needed him, and he needed you. No matter how much you want to leave, you would never go without a proper good bye. Dami was like an anchor, he kept you grounded when needed. And that's all you needed, him. You didn't Bruce's money, you didn't need Richard or Jason or anyone else. Right on the brink of sleep, you heard your brothers little voice call your name.

You hummed in response to indicate that he's got your attention.

"You broke my promise." His voice was quiet and weary, like he was treading slowly, in case he accidently set off a bomb.

"I did, buddy." You don't know how many apologize you had left in you.

"Promise you won't do that again."

You smiled softly, knowing that this was really just the calm before the storm. But ignoring that fact, you held out your pinkie.

"Pinkie promise." You managed to get out, you were really starting to get tired. Damian rolled his eyes and muttered 'childish acts' underneath his breath, but he still interlocked his pinkie with yours. "I love you Dami." The words left your mouth just before your eyes shut, there was no bother waiting for a response, you knew how he was. And you knew how perfect he was.

"I love you too, sister...and I am sorry." ˙⋆✮

Taglist ˙⋆✮

@pix-stuff @mangogoesfishin @navs-bhat

[roseworth]

i just think we should give this outfit another chance

[shybasementkid]

please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate. please don't make me elaborate.

[pucksandpower]

Malfunction

Franco Colapinto x physician!Reader

Summary: Franco’s concussion has come and gone, but his desire to see the angel of a physician who likely saved his life has only gotten stronger … it’s just a shame that he tends to lose any semblance of composure when you’re around

Note: this is the much requested second part to Malpractice … but even better than the first part if I do say so myself 🫣

The Las Vegas Grand Prix is a distant blur in Franco’s memory. The crash. The pain. The disorientation.

But there’s something else that lingers, too. Something soft that refuses to leave him alone.

It’s the image of you, kneeling in front of him, your hands steady even as his world spun. Your voice cutting through the haze, your gaze sharp and intense, demanding his attention. The way you pushed him to stay alert, to pay attention, to focus on something other than the chaos in his head.

Franco knows he owes his sanity, maybe even his life, to you.

It’s been a week since the crash, and he’s been cleared by the medical team to race again in Qatar, despite a lingering headache that’s been stubbornly hanging on. But it’s not the headache that’s bothering him. It’s the fact that you’re not here. You’re not at the track. Not in the garage. Not hovering over him like some kind of guardian angel.

He wants to see you again. Needs to.

He’s sitting in the Williams debrief room, surrounded by engineers who are talking a mile a minute about tire wear and lap times. But Franco is barely listening. He keeps checking his phone, hoping for some sort of miracle: a text, a call, anything that might tell him you’re here. That you’ve returned to the paddock.

But the screen stays empty.

“Franco, are you with us?” James Vowles’ voice cuts through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry,” Franco mutters, rubbing his eyes. “What were you saying about tire strategy?”

James raises an eyebrow. “It’s fine. Focus on your recovery. We’re just going over the data from today’s practice. You’ve got time. But-” He looks around, making sure no one else is listening, “-don’t be distracted during qualifying tomorrow. We need every bit of performance we can get from you this weekend.”

“Right.” Franco nods, but his mind drifts again, his gaze slipping back to his phone. It’s like the rhythm of the weekend has been broken without you here, without the sharpness of your voice telling him he’s being an idiot, without your soft, steady presence making everything feel a little more manageable.

A soft knock sounds at the door, and Alex steps in, his casual smile immediately making the room feel a little lighter. His eyes flicker over to Franco. “How’s it going, mate?”

Franco immediately perks up. “Alex! You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He straightens up in his chair, suddenly interested in the conversation.

Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that because you’ve missed me, or because I bring good news?”

“Both,” Franco grins. “But seriously, I’ve been thinking about something, and I need your help.”

Alex folds his arms, giving Franco a knowing look. “Uh oh. What have you gotten yourself into now?”

“It’s about Y/N,” Franco says, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t seem too surprised. He sighs, already knowing where this is headed. “Ah, I should’ve known.”

“No, listen,” Franco presses, his voice a little more serious. “I need her to come to Abu Dhabi. She has to be there. I-” He pauses, trying to put his feelings into words. “I’ve been thinking about her all week. I just … I need to see her again.”

Alex raises both hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You want me to convince her to come to a race just so you can see her again?”

Franco shrugs, looking entirely unapologetic. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

Alex shakes his head, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. “You really have it bad, don’t you?”

Franco hesitates, his smile faltering just slightly, then nods. “I do.” His expression softens. “She helped me when I didn’t even know what was happening. I’ve never had someone take care of me like that.”

Alex takes a moment, studying Franco’s face, then lets out a long breath. “Look, I can’t make any promises. Y/N’s a resident physician. Her schedule is insane. She barely has time to breathe, let alone fly out to the Middle East for a race. But-” He hesitates, as if weighing his next words carefully. “But I’ll ask her. I’ll see what I can do. But no promises, okay?”

“Just ask,” Franco says urgently. “I don’t care if it’s a long shot. I need her there.”

Alex chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll ask. But you owe me a beer if this works.”

“You got it,” Franco grins, already feeling the relief of having put his request into motion. “Thanks.”

***

It’s late by the time you’re wrapping up your shift at the hospital. The weight of your scrubs feels heavier than usual tonight, your body aching after hours of rounds and consultations. You’ve barely slept all week, the demands of your residency taking up every last ounce of energy. All you want to do now is crash into bed and forget about the world for a few hours.

But then your phone buzzes in your pocket, and the familiar name on the screen makes you stop in your tracks.

Alex.

You sigh, glancing around the empty hallway before answering. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”

“Hey,” Alex greets you, his tone casual but there’s a hint of something else in his voice. “How’s it going?”

You roll your eyes, leaning against the wall. “You know, same old. Patients, paperwork, more patients. I swear, I’m starting to see people’s illnesses in my dreams at this point. What’s up?”

“Well, funny you should mention that,” Alex says with a chuckle, “because I’ve got a bit of a favor to ask.”

You brace yourself. “What now?”

“I need you to come to Abu Dhabi.”

There’s a beat of silence. “What? No. I can’t just drop everything and fly to Abu Dhabi. You know how insane my schedule is right now.”

“I know, I know,” Alex says quickly. “But listen, it’s not for me. It’s for Franco.”

You blink, unsure if you heard him right. “Franco? What does he have to do with this?”

“He, uh, well, he’s been asking about you. He really wants you to come. He … he kind of needs you there, Y/N.”

You frown. “Needs me? What, like for a medical emergency?”

“No, no,” Alex quickly reassures you. “It’s not like that. He’s just — he’s been a bit, you know, off since the crash. He keeps talking about how much you helped him, how much he needs to see you again. He’s … kinda, well, taken with you.”

You pause, processing the unexpected request. “Wait. You want me to go to Abu Dhabi just to … see Franco?”

Alex sighs. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I totally get it if you can’t make it. I just thought I’d put it out there, because he’s really … well, he’s really worried about seeing you again.”

You take a deep breath, staring at the floor. There’s a tug at your chest. Franco’s crash. The way he looked when he stumbled into the garage, his eyes unfocused, his voice thick with concussion. And how you couldn’t help but care, couldn’t help but feel something stir in your chest as you took care of him.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I don’t know if I can get time off. I’ve got a million things to do.”

“Please,” Alex pleads, his tone sincere. “Just think about it. I’ll take care of the rest. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just — just come for the weekend. For him.”

You hesitate for a long moment. Your exhaustion is overwhelming, but so is the pull to be there for Franco, to check in on him after everything that happened.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Alex lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to him.”

“I’ll talk to my supervisor tomorrow and see if I can get a couple of days off. I’ll let you know.”

“Great. I’ll keep you posted. Thanks again, really.”

As the call ends, you press the phone to your ear, staring at the blank hospital hallway. Something in your chest stirs, a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite name. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get involved with any of these drivers. But Franco … there’s something about him. Something you can’t shake.

You don’t know what’s going to happen in Abu Dhabi. But you know one thing for sure: you’re going to see him again.

***

Franco is buzzing with energy as he walks away from the Williams garage after FP2. The track is alive with its usual Friday hum: team radios squawking, mechanics wheeling equipment, fans pressing against barricades for a glimpse of the action. Normally, this is his favorite part of the weekend — the calm between sessions when he can breathe and think through what’s next.

But today, his thoughts are miles away.

You.

Alex told him you’d agreed to come. He’s spent all week mentally preparing for this moment, imagining what he’ll say when he sees you again. He’d told himself he’d play it cool. That he wouldn’t come off as desperate or weird. That he’d be charming and effortless.

And now, as he walks toward the Williams motorhome, he’s running through those lines in his head like a script. But then, through the glass doors of the motorhome, he spots you.

You’re sitting at a table with Lily, wine glasses between you. You’re mid-laugh, one hand lightly gesturing, the other wrapped around the stem of your glass. The sound of your laugh doesn’t reach him, but your expression — warm and animated — is enough to stop him in his tracks.

Franco stares, frozen. For a second, he’s not a professional driver or a smooth-talking twenty-one-year-old. He’s just a guy, floored by the sight of someone he’s been thinking about far too much.

And then, because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, he walks straight into the glass door.

The sound is embarrassingly loud — a deep, resonant thud that draws the attention of a couple of mechanics nearby. Franco stumbles back, clutching his forehead as the door wobbles slightly on its hinges.

“Oh, come on,” he mutters under his breath, blinking rapidly to clear the stars dancing in his vision.

Inside, Lily gasps, already half out of her chair. But you — you just press a hand to your mouth, visibly trying to suppress a laugh.

Franco pushes the door open this time (successfully, thank God) and steps into the motorhome, trying to salvage whatever remains of his dignity.

“Didn’t know the motorhome was defending itself today,” he says, flashing a crooked grin as he rubs his forehead.

You’re still smiling, but there’s a glint in your eyes as you take a sip of wine. “I see you’re still finding creative ways to injure yourself.”

Lily, standing now, gives him a once-over. “Are you okay? That sounded bad.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Franco says quickly, though he’s still holding his head. “Just testing the structural integrity of the door. Very solid. Great engineering.”

Lily rolls her eyes, muttering something about grabbing an ice pack before disappearing into the kitchen.

You lean back in your chair, tilting your head as you look at him. “You know, you really don’t have to keep hurting yourself just to get my attention. There are easier ways.”

Franco blinks, momentarily thrown off by the teasing edge in your voice. But then he recovers, his grin widening. “Oh, so you noticed me, huh? Mission accomplished.”

You arch an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Hard not to notice when someone face-plants into a door.”

“Ouch,” Franco says, clutching his chest dramatically. “First my head, now my ego. You’re ruthless.”

You laugh, setting your glass down. “I’m a doctor. I call it like I see it.”

“And what do you see?” He asks, leaning casually against the doorframe (or at least trying to — he slightly misjudges the angle and has to correct himself, which makes him look anything but casual).

“I see someone who might need another concussion test if they keep this up,” you say dryly, though there’s a hint of amusement in your tone.

Franco seizes the opening. “Oh, you’ll give me a test? What, right here? Should I sit down? Or maybe lie down? Whatever you need, angel, I’m ready.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch. “I’m off-duty, thank you very much. And stop calling me angel.”

“Why? It suits you,” Franco says without missing a beat. He steps closer, his grin turning just a bit sheepish. “You did save me, after all.”

“From driving with a concussion,” you reply, crossing your arms.

“Still counts,” he says, shrugging. “So … you’re really here. Thought maybe Alex was messing with me.”

You tilt your head, watching him carefully. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, for fun? He likes to mess with me,” Franco says, his grin turning rueful. “But I’m glad he wasn’t. It’s … it’s good to see you.”

Your expression softens, and you glance down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “It’s good to see you too.”

For a moment, there’s a silence between you. Not awkward, but charged. Franco shifts his weight, scratching the back of his neck. He’s been preparing for this moment all week, but now that you’re standing in front of him, he’s at a loss.

Lily reappears then, an ice pack in hand. She tosses it to Franco, who catches it against his chest. “Here,” she says. “For the door-shaped bruise you’re probably going to have.”

“Thanks,” Franco says, pressing the pack to his forehead. He winces slightly but keeps his gaze on you.

Lily looks between the two of you, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to laugh. “Well, I’ll leave you two to … whatever this is,” she says, grabbing her glass and retreating toward the other end of the motorhome.

Franco watches her go, then looks back at you, his smile softening. “So … you’re here for the whole weekend?”

You nod. “Lily convinced me to stay. Said I needed a break.”

“You do,” Franco says quickly. “Definitely. Big time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because …” Franco hesitates, then decides to go for it. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Vegas.”

You blink, caught off guard by his honesty. “Franco-”

“I’m serious,” he interrupts, stepping closer. “I know I’m probably coming off like a total idiot right now, but I don’t care. You-” He gestures vaguely, as if struggling to find the right words. “You’re different. You’re not like anyone else here.”

“That’s because I’m not supposed to be here,” you say, your tone light but your eyes searching his. “I’m a doctor, Franco. Not meant for … whatever this world is.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. “You could be anything, and I’d still want to know you. You’re …” He trails off, then laughs at himself. “God, I’m bad at this.”

You laugh too, finally relaxing. “A little, yeah.”

“But I’m trying,” he says, his expression earnest now. “And I’ll keep trying, even if it means walking into more doors. Or walls. Or whatever else gets in my way.”

You shake your head, exasperated but undeniably charmed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously into you,” Franco counters, grinning.

You groan, but your smile betrays you. “Stop. That was awful.”

“Was it?” Hr teases, leaning just slightly closer.

“Yes,” you say firmly, though there’s a hint of laughter in your voice. “And I’m not letting you use your injuries as an excuse to flirt with me.”

“Then what excuse should I use?” He asks, tilting his head.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now. “How about none? Just be normal.”

“Normal,” Franco repeats, as if testing the word. “Okay. I can do that. Probably.”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” you say, but your tone is lighter now, your guard lowering just a fraction.

Franco grins, sensing the shift. He might not be smooth, but he’s persistent. And right now, that feels like enough.

***

The hospital hums with its usual rhythm: the sharp beeps of monitors, the steady shuffle of footsteps, and the occasional murmur of voices echoing down sterile hallways. You’re halfway through your shift, mentally cataloging a growing to-do list, when one of the nurses finds you near the break room.

She looks far too amused for your liking, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Hey, Doc,” she says, her tone conspiratorial. “You’ve got a patient in Room 43. Interesting case. File’s by the door.”

You glance up from your notes, immediately suspicious. “Interesting how?”

“Let’s just say … not your usual trauma,” she replies, her grin widening. “Go see for yourself.”

With a sigh, you grab your tablet and head down the hallway. You’re too tired to entertain the nurse’s cryptic humor, but curiosity tugs at you anyway. When you reach Room 43, you spot the chart hanging by the door. You pick it up and start skimming, your brain automatically processing the medical shorthand.

And then your eyes land on the complaint: penile fracture.

You freeze. Your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds.

Penile fracture. Seriously? You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to laugh or groan. It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare enough to make your day a little more … colorful.

Squaring your shoulders, you prepare yourself for what’s undoubtedly going to be an awkward encounter. Professionalism, you remind yourself. You’ve handled weirder cases.

But all of that resolve shatters the second you open the door and step into the room.

Because the patient isn’t some anonymous stranger.

It’s Franco.

Franco, lounging on the exam table like he doesn’t have a care in the world, scrolling through his phone with his free hand. Franco, the same man you’ve been dating for months, who absolutely should not be in this hospital room right now.

Your mouth opens, ready to deliver your standard introduction, but no words come out.

Franco looks up at the sound of the door, his face breaking into that familiar, devilish grin. “Hey, angel.”

“What the-” You stop yourself, gripping the edge of the clipboard like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. “Franco, what are you doing here?”

He sets his phone down, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m a patient. Clearly.”

You take a deep breath, setting the clipboard aside. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope.” He leans back slightly, gesturing toward himself with both hands. “Broken dick. You saw the file.”

Your jaw tightens as you step closer, lowering your voice. “Franco, this is a hospital. You can’t just-”

“I didn’t just anything,” he cuts in, feigning indignation. “I’m here because you abandoned me this morning. And now I’m suffering.”

You blink at him, completely thrown. “Suffering?”

“Yes!” He says, sitting up straighter, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays any attempt at seriousness. “You left me. Alone. In bed. With …” He lowers his voice dramatically. “An issue.”

Your brain scrambles to keep up. “An issue?”

Franco sighs, as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “Blue balls. A raging, unresolved situation. You’re a doctor — you know how dangerous that can be.”

“Dangerous?” Your voice rises slightly before you catch yourself. “Franco, I left because I had to come to work. Like a normal person.”

“Right, but normal people don’t leave their boyfriends high and dry,” he argues, his tone edging into the realm of petulant. “Do you know how much it hurts? It’s practically a medical emergency.”

You close your eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So let me get this straight,” you say slowly. “You’re here because you have blue balls. And instead of — oh, I don’t know — handling it with your hand and some lotion like a grown adult, you decided to come to my workplace and waste everyone’s time?”

“I don’t see it as wasting time,” Franco says, crossing his arms. “I see it as seeking expert care. From a very qualified, very beautiful doctor.”

“Franco,” you say warningly, but he’s already grinning.

“Besides,” he continues, his voice dropping into a teasing lilt, “don’t you think it’s romantic? I’m literally willing to suffer for you.”

“Oh my God.” You press a hand to your forehead, feeling a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You are not suffering. And this is not romantic — it’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously sweet,” Franco counters, clearly enjoying himself.

You stare at him, torn between wanting to strangle him and laugh. “You know I could get in trouble for this, right? What if someone finds out I’m treating my boyfriend? Or worse, that you’re faking a medical emergency?”

“I’m not faking,” he says quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “The pain in my cock is very real.”

“Franco.” Your voice is flat, and you fix him with your best no-nonsense look.

He hesitates for a beat, then leans forward slightly, lowering his voice like he’s about to confess something scandalous. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a fracture. But it is painful!”

You throw your hands up, resisting the urge to laugh despite yourself. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

Franco pouts, his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated fashion. “Come on, angel. Don’t be mad. I just wanted to see you.”

“You couldn’t have waited until my shift was over?”

He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m impatient. And in my defense, you looked very cute leaving this morning.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me,” he says, his grin widening.

“Don’t push your luck,” you warn, though there’s no real bite in your tone.

Franco leans back on the exam table, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who just disrupted your workday. “So … are you gonna examine me or what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you want me to call security? Because that’s where this is headed.”

“You wouldn’t,” he says, his confidence unwavering.

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Franco holds your gaze for a moment, then sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. No exam. But only because I value our relationship.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, not even trying to hide your sarcasm.

He grins again, the kind of grin that’s always been your undoing. “You can’t stay mad at me, angel. Admit it.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts. “Franco, you’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, you’d be on your way out of here in handcuffs.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he smirks. “Kinky.”

“Oh, for the love of-” You don’t bother finishing the sentence, turning toward the door instead.

“Wait, wait!” Franco calls after you, sliding off the exam table. “I’m kidding! Don’t go!”

You pause, looking back at him. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, his expression softer now. “Seriously,” he says. “I just … I missed you. And I thought maybe this would make you laugh. Or at least roll your eyes. Which it did, so … mission accomplished?”

You sigh, feeling your resolve waver. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s looking at you like that — like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

“Franco,” you say, your voice quieter now. “You can’t just show up like this. I have a job to do.”

“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “And I promise I won’t make a habit of it. But … can I take you to dinner after your shift? As an apology?”

You study him for a moment, weighing your options. Finally, you let out a small sigh. “Fine. But only if you promise to behave.”

“I promise,” he says quickly, holding a hand over his heart.

“And no more faking injuries,” you add, pointing a finger at him.

“Scout’s honor,” he says, though the mischievous glint in his eye suggests otherwise.

You shake your head, exasperated but smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, you keep me around,” he says, grinning.

“For now,” you say, opening the door. “Now get out of here before someone sees you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Franco says, saluting playfully as he follows you into the hallway.

As he walks away, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Ridiculous as he is, there’s no denying that life with Franco is never boring.

[monstersholygrail]

Do Hybrid!Readers count?

I’m thinking of a monster Reader being kept for research purposes and catching the attention of the newest hire. Cheeky, beastly Reader with an awkward, nerdy scientist who unsuccessfully tries to hide his infatuation. He stares for too long, finds pathetic excuses to work overtime, and pretends to be deeply interested in whatever topic involves Reader. Lately, he’s been spotted reading a book about Reader’s kind, particularly mating habits. For, uh, science, mind you.

Alternatively, it can be a human Reader in a monster lab. I just found the dynamic funny. :)

Aaaah, yes yes! It definitely counts, I love this sorta dynamic. It can be really hilarious and a ton of fun ^_^

None of the Scientists in the lab could really figure you out. You were a giant beast who appeared naturally incredibly threatening. So all the scientists had been a bit hesitant to get in close and really figure out what kind of Hybrid you were exactly.

But they just had to. Because for some reason, some idiot had accidently leaked to the press that they had you in custody. Before they knew it there were countless pictures and articles plastered all over the internet about you. People wanted answers and they sadly had to be the ones to get them. So they brought in a specialist.

The young Scientist stared up at you in awe the first time he met you. He couldn’t actually believe he was meeting you up close. He didn’t know how to react. In fact, he didn’t know anything at all when it came to you. You see, he wasn’t actually a hybrid specialist. He was a scientist, that part was true! Everything else may have been a slight exaggeration on his application.

He just wanted to see you so so bad. He had to. The moment he saw those pictures of you he knew the two of you were meant to be. You were the reason he had never totally clicked with humans, couldn’t keep a partner, and had never fallen in love. His heart was waiting for you.

And now that he was with you, he needed to know everything about you. Not only to sate his own desire but also, ya know, to keep his job. Or else some foolish human might try and separate him from you again. It left him fawning over you constantly, watching you all day everyday, always staying late just so he could be alone with you for a couple hours, and butting in whenever someone tried to talk about you. Because of course he knew you best.

His growing knowledge of you left him convinced you were nearing your heat. Your restless behavior. The way you kept banging against the glass trying to get to him. Over the weeks you had noticed his interest and his care and yours had grown just as much. You had chosen him as your mate and he wanted to be there for you.

The only thing he could think to do was read books on mating behaviors. Of just about every single Hybrid species you could possible be.

Stacks of books surround him in the lab. His interest of you hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Not by a long shot. But they brushed off his strange behavior if jt kept him closer to you and them farther away. They avoid him now too, looking at him like the absolute freak he is as they realize what he’s reading.

Their worry doesn’t decrease when he later explains how you need to mate soon in order to keep you in check. They look at him like he’s truly gone insane and maybe he has. The wild look in his eye has only grown more intense the more he’s been around you without truly being with you.

He convinces them with the idea that you’ll be better after you’ve mated. Easier to handle. More open to having experiments done on you while your body is sated and exhausted after being fucked for hours on end. While in reality, from what he’s studied, the opposite is true.

He doesn’t plan on letting them go anywhere within a mile of you. Not with injections, chemicals, and especially not with their grubby little hands. No, only he can touch you. Only he deserves to be near your beauty and grace.

After you mate with him you’re going to be even more wild and destructive, your instincts inflamed and ready to fight. He’s gonna use that to get you two out of that lab if it’s the last thing he does.

Meanwhile the other scientists don’t suspect a thing as they stand a safe distance away from the cage as it opens to let the young scientist inside. The metal door snaps shut once he’s inside and he feels like he can finally breathe now that there’s nothing keeping you two a part.

Mirroring smirks grow on your faces, your expressions speaking of a secret just between the two of you. And as you both finally meet each other in a passionate embrace, you know this will be a wild night that will end with your freedom and a mate by your side.

[kpoptarotastrology009]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS Part-1

Lilith in the 1st house : the person has a magnetic aura to them that makes people love them or hate them or both at the same time but in any case they think about them sexually and there's no doubt about that/ dark feminine energy

Lilith in the 10th house: it's the same as Lilith in the 1st house but the only difference when it's in the 10th house that it comes with rumors and maybe some problems in term of work and coworkers so yeah

Scorpio Mars: When these people set their mind to something, nothing can stop them. They’ve got this intense, magnetic energy that pulls you in and won’t let go. Scorpio Mars folks are all about getting to the bottom of things, no matter how deep they have to dig. They’re relentless, driven, and sometimes a little intimidating. You don’t want to mess with them because they play for keeps and don’t back down easily. Their passion is unmatched, and they bring a certain raw power to everything they do.

Sun in the 10th house: so let me tell you something, a lot of people talk about Leo suns and how they like the attention, but have you ever met someone who has their sun in the 10th house?! These people want power baby , they want to be in control and all the eyes on them they like that trust me

Moon in the 12th house : that's a hard placement to have , so first these people when you ask them about their emotion and they say they don't know, believe it or not they really don't know , it's like their emotion being hidden from them, when something happens they just don't feel anything or just don't know how to feel? this is so hard , and another thing, so these people are so delusional specially when it comes to their emotion, they fantasize a lot and live in another world, they love music Sooo much more that normal people do because music just takes them to their emotional World that's filled with illusion and they do anything they want there they just feel so happy doing that

Sagittarius Venus: Love for these individuals is a grand adventure. They’re always looking for a partner who can keep up with their wild spirit and thirst for new experiences. Honesty and freedom are non-negotiables for them, and they won’t stick around if they feel trapped or lied to. They bring a lot of enthusiasm and positivity into their relationships, making everything feel like an epic journey. Being with them means lots of spontaneous trips, deep philosophical talks, and never a dull moment.

Libra Risings: These people have a charming and diplomatic aura that makes them natural peacemakers. They’re always looking for balance and harmony in their relationships and surroundings. Libra Risings are social butterflies, often surrounded by a wide circle of friends. They have a keen sense of aesthetics and are drawn to beauty in all its forms. They’re the ones you go to for advice on style, relationships, and anything else that requires a touch of elegance.

Virgo moon : okay that's another hard placement to have , just imagine the amount of overthinking here , whenever is Virgo in your chart it's will make you overthink about the term of that planet , like some sort of anxiety ? And when it's in the moon , you will overthink your emotions, you will feel everything but you just can't describe it , for example if someone blocked you without a reason that will hurt you in someway and then you will overthink it like why and how and what's the reason and you will be thinking why they did that and 100 reasons comes to your mind and you feel bad, the insecurities and anxiety come to the surface , you're stomach hurts, you can't sleep, you can't stop thinking about it and this is for some basic cases , so imagine if it was a deeper cases ... That's scary to even think about...

Cap moon /Moon- Saturn ( conjunction/ opposite/ square): oh... I'm sorry... These people really needs emotional support, you can tell me anything but these people need love ,need care and need support, they act so strong on the outside but in the inside they are really sensitive, they just need to be loved and nurtured by a person or a mother figure

Neptune in the 5th house: this makes you so creative , your imagination is unlimited

Pisces Suns: These folks are deep in their feels and vibe on a different wavelength. They can sense what others are feeling without a word being said, making them super empathetic. Sometimes they seem spaced out or lost in their own world, which is just them getting lost in their dreams and fantasies. Pisces Suns are the creative types, always imagining new possibilities and seeing the beauty in things others might miss. They're like spiritual wanderers, flowing through life with an almost mystical vibe.

[tricksters-captain]

Declan O'Hara imagine - I'm not doing this.

A/N: I thought about this one shot weeks ago... finally writing it. Probably been done already by someone else but who isn't obsessed with rivals atm. I also haven't written in years.

Summary: Declan is fighting against himself and everything he believes in when you come into the picture.

Warnings: Age Gap, fem!reader, NSFW content 18+, strong language, bit of a slow burn.

"Taggie, honestly, I don't know why you'd ever willingly add Brussel sprouts to anything." You chuckled as you both crept through the door to the kitchen.

"They're good for you!" Taggie tried to defend her culinary choices for her Sunday lunch.

"If they're good for you then I always want to be bad."

"Who's being bad?" A thick Irish accent filled the room as Taggie's dad sauntered in, a mug of coffee in one hand with his other burrowed deeply into his trouser pocket.

"Dad, this is (Y/N). (Y/N) was just objecting to my sprouts."

"Oh yeah, I agree, terrible things. Even the dog won't eat 'em" Declan brought his mug to his lips, smirking through the thick moustache that hid his upper lip.

You felt your insides alight at his dark, playful expression as he teased Taggie.

That was the first time you knew you were a bad friend. A bad friend who wanted your new friend's father to lift you onto the kitchen table and bury his head between your thighs.

The thought made your cheeks burn red as you laughed at Declan's remark and Taggie's complaints against him.

The man left the kitchen when his eyes flitted back to you, sending you a nod and a 'lovely to meet you, (Y/N). '

You couldn't help but replay the way he said your name in your head over and over and over again until you were desperate for his voice to sing it again.

The next time you saw Declan O'Hara was at the O'Hara New Years Eve party.

"You better not spend the whole time in here. I'd actually like you to put a dress on and come out to dance at some point tonight." You pleaded with Taggie as she clasped your necklace for you.

"I'll try but I can't make any promises. Anyway, you're out there to be my eyes and ears. You need to tell me if anyone complains about the food, okay?"

"Yes, Taggie. But no one will because you are amazing and your food is amazing and you are so right for not letting me help you cook or serve after I burnt the soup last time." You faced her as she continued to prep the ingredients she would need for the feast she had planned.

"You are a great friend but you are a terrible cook." Taggie agreed. You felt a lump in your throat at the words. Were you a great friend for literally fantasising over her father after almost every time you had an interaction with him? "Now please go next door and make sure that all the tables have the right cutlery for me?"

"Anything for you, Agatha!" You headed to do as you were told. Looking down to smooth out your dress when you felt yourself collide with something solid.

"I'm so sorry!" You looked up to see Declan turning, laughing softly at your clumsiness.

"It's okay, love." Declan's own eyes fell down your body, his lips parting slightly as he took in the sight of you all dressed up. He knew you were an attractive girl but you were Taggie's age and one of her only friends in the surrounding neighbours beside Lizzie. "You look beautiful."

The sincerity in his voice caused a chill to roll up your spine.

"Thanks. You look very handsome too, Mr. O'Hara." You didn't know why you felt so shy around him. You were so used to owning your space and holding your confidence when you fancied someone.

"That's very kind, (Y/N). And it's Declan. I don't want to tell you again." Declan send you a wink as he started to pass you. "Hey, and no snogging my son at midnight. You're way too good for him."

Your heart squeezed at the taunt. Patrick was a gorgeous boy and he had tried to flirt with you when he met you but you were far too interested in Declan for Patrick to make any dent in your crush.

"He's not my type anyway." You managed to find your tongue to quip back an answer.

"Good girl."

Good Girl.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself replying something entirely inappropriate in response.

As the night went on, you felt your heart drop more and more. Declan was obsessed with his wife. His wife was obsessed with anyone else.

You were desperate to try and make more conversation with the man but almost everyone was grabbing his attention to discuss some work matter or other.

As the countdown began, you gut wrenchingly watched as Maud and Declan kiss. You put on a smile and exchanged celebrations with those around you. Giving Lizzie a kiss on the cheek as her husband blanked her as he usually did.

"Happy New Year, chicken." Lizzie pressed on a faux smile as you did.

"Happy New Year, Lizzie."

"A little advice for your new years resolution if I may?" Lizzie whispered as she drew you closer.

"You may want to get better at hiding your admiration for Taggie's father. I know nothing hurts more than something you can't have." Lizzie's words took you back, you felt your cheeks burning red and your smile drop.

"Oh, Lizzie, I'm mortified! Please don't tell Taggie." You begged.

"Not a peep." Lizzie motioned locking her lips with a key before grabbing your hands to singing sway along with the room.

The night went on and Lizzie tried to encourage you to join in festivities. You drank more and more, being forced away whenever you tried to help Taggie wash up, and you soon found yourself needing some quiet time.

You let yourself into Declan's office, leaning against the desk, fingers gripping the underside to give you some stability when the room started to ever so slightly spin.

You closed your eyes. Inhaling a shaky breath when you heard the door creek open.

"I thought someone unwanted had decided to sneak through my things." Declan's melodic accent forced your eyes open.

"I'm wanted, am I?" You smirked slightly, through the sickness as your eyelids closed again.

Declan didn't respond. Instead he just studied you from across the room. His hands in his pockets, his stance leaning back just ever so slightly.

"You struggling there?" Declan was amused at your state.

You tried to push yourself off the desk but instead felt yourself stumble forward.

Declan's amusement quickly turned into concern as he stepped forward to catch you.

"Steady on." Declan had managed to stop you from hitting the floor, your face pressed against his chest, his strong arms engulfing you as he pulled you up towards him.

"I'm so sorry..." You mumbled as you leant away to look up at him.

His features were so strong up close. You could smell the whisky on his breath as your eyes lingered on his lips.

"Maybe we should get you some water and put you to bed."

Declan's words drew your eyes to his own. His chest seemed to go tight as he starred down into your glassy (Y/E/C) eyes.

"You can take me to bed any time you want, Mr O'Hara." Your words slurred together with your weak attempt of drunkenly flirting.

"It's Declan."

"Okay, Declan..."

That was the first time Declan had heard you say his name. Something inside him knew he wanted to hear you say it again but he fought against the thought, pulling away from you as you gained your stance.

"Let's hope you don't remember this in the morning, ay?" Declan tried to make light, convincing himself the electric feeling he had was nothing.

"Why? I finally got my chance in your arms. My dream come true."

"Yeah, you really won't want to remember this in the morning. Come on..." Declan opened the door, waiting for you to follow suite. The noise of the party echoed around you; you had almost forgot it was still going on outside.

"Have you ever thought about me?" You had no idea where this liquid confidence had stirred from.

There was a pause before he answered.

"No." He was lying. He knew he was lying. He watched the disappoint subtly encase your eyes as you pursed your lips into a thin smile.

"If I was dreaming, you would've said yes. Goodnight, Mr O'Hara."

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."

-------------------------------------------------------

As the weeks went on, rivals became friends. Friends became rivals. You grew closer to the O'Hara family and the moment from NYE had simply been forgotten. Or so you thought...

The dread that had filled your gut that New Years Day after you remembered the incident brewed inside of you for weeks. You had successfully avoided Declan, only seeing him in group scenarios and meetings for Venturer.

"(Y/N), I left some of my flyers on the table in the living room if you want to use them." Taggie climbed into her car, shouting over at you as she rushed off. You both had been going door to door for Venturer in different areas to cover more ground but you had run out of flyers to hand out.

"Thanks, Tag!" You rushed inside, running through the house that still held a cool air inside despite the early summer warmth outside.

"Careful!" You heard a voice proclaim as your bodies hit.

Within the blink of an eye, you had hit the floor with a body on top of you.

"Are you alright?" Declan groaned as you winced underneath his weight. The hard floor sent a wave of pain through your back but you had managed to not hit your head.

"Ow." You grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Did you hit your head?" Declan propped himself up on his arms, examining your face with a furrowed brow of worry.

"No." Was all you managed to say.

"I thought we had left bumping into each other for last year." Declan recalled on when you knocked into him last New Years Eve before the party had started.

"Clearly I'm not very good at keeping to New Year's resolutions."

Declan chuckled, pushing himself up before offering his hand.

You felt the warmth of his body leave you and the coldness of the floor pierce your bones.

You took his hand; hauling yourself to your feet.

"You sure you're okay?" Declan insisted. His hand reached out to take grip of your waist, his thumb and finger burning against your skin that had been revealed by the edge of your venturer top riding up. His other finger waved past your eyes, checking for concussion.

"I'm fine. No more running in the house with blind corners." You took a step back from the man, straightening your shirt to try and control the lingering feeling of the mans hand on you.

"Now... are we okay?" Declan rephrased,

"What do you mean?"

"(Y/N), don't play stupid. You've avoided me for almost half a year now. You won't even walk around the house without Caitlin or Taggie next to you."

You didn't think that Declan would've noticed with how busy he was with work and his life. Why would he have cared where you were or what you were doing in the house?

"I'm still living down my behaviour at New Years." You reluctantly admitted.

"What, that? Everyone says stuff they shouldn't when they've had a few too many. Doesn't mean you have to never look me in the eye again."

"What I said was completely inappropriate."

"Yes, it was. You're the same age as my daughter and I'm a married man but I'll have to admit I'm a little flattered." Declan tried his best to ease your anxiety. "I don't exactly see myself a teenage heart throb."

"I'm not a teenager." You bit back, the harshness your voice surprising you both.

"There's not much difference. You're practically a child and should be going for someone your own age." Declan quit the joking tone he had been using, taken back by your defence.

"Don't call me a child. I'm not the same age as Caitlin. I am older than Taggie and I've been with men before so I'm not playing silly little girl games over here. This isn't some school girl crush on a handsome teacher. You're right my feelings for you are inappropriate because you're a married man and I'm friends with your daughter but not because of my age. I know who I am and what I feel." A fire lit up your chest as you finally had broken out of the timidness you hated.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Declan took a step closer to you, his stare burning into you as he lowered his voice.

"You're the one who reads people. Tell me what you see in me." You matched him, standing so close to him you could feel his breath on your face as you gritted your teeth.

The air was thick. The silence of the house engulfing you both, your breath audible and quick. You thought you could almost hear your heart thudding against your chest.

Declan was the one to break away. Storming to his office with a hard slam of the door.

How did your conversation turn so heated?

That night Declan tossed and turned, his head filled with moments of you. He rolled over and gently woke up his wife with soft strokes on her shoulder blades.

"What?" Maud hummed, rolling her head over her shoulder to Declan.

"I'm awake." Declan pressed himself against his wife.

"I can feel that." Maud looked at him through a sleepy gaze.

"Let me touch you." His fingers glided over her skin until he reached the space between her legs. Maud moaned quietly as Declan began to part her folds with his finger.

"Declan..." Maud sighed as she pressed her backside into him, feeling his member hard against her.

Declan wasted no time in entering her. He closed his eyes as his dick pressed inside his wife. And all he could see through the darkness was your eyes looking up at his. The first time he had seen you in the kitchen. The bump in the hall, the incident in his study, every time he had caught you intensely listening to one of his speeches to the group, the crash against the floor. You underneath him. The tiny bit of skin his hand had managed to caress from the bottom of your shirt.

He had never thought of you before. Not with Maud, not with his own hand and imagination and he couldn't make sense of why that night he finished almost as fast as his inexperienced teenage self had once before.

-----------------------------------------------------------

It had been Declan's turn to avoid you from that day. He couldn't be too close to you without feeling his throat go dry, a sickening guilt and twisting conflict rising with it.

It was the evening you'd find out whether Venturer was a real contender against Corrinium.

The O'Hara house was filled with people eagerly waiting except one who had decided to leave the house for good.

The house erupted in cheers and celebrations as the phone call confirmed it for you all.

You watched through the window as Maud drove off, leaving Declan and Taggie behind.

"We did it!" Taggie squeezed you tightly before embracing her father and to your surprise, Declan had also pulled you into a tight hug. You had hoped no one picked up on the slight awkwardness that left the embrace when Declan moved onto join the others. You couldn't help but feel it.

The party went on and you tried to keep an eye on Declan without making it too obvious (like Rupert and Taggie had failed to).

When Rupert left Declan's side for another whiskey, (Taggie swiftly disappearing just after), Declan slipped away to his study. You followed.

"I'm sorry about Maud." You made your presence known as you watched him place his glass down on the desk, his back to you when he replied.

"Don't."

"Fine." You clenched your jaw, unsure of what to say next at the warning in his tone.

"What do you want from me?" Declan's voice had a hint of desperation. He turned to face you. You had seen this look before.

"I don't––"

"––No 'cause you followed me in here. You are everywhere I look. I can't even get a wink of sleep most nights without dreaming of two things. You or beating Tony fucking Baddingham. And I can't think of you because you're young enough to be my daughter and I'm a fucking hypocrite for telling Rupert to stay away from Taggie when I look at you in that dress and wonder what you would look like with it on this floor right now. I'm not doing it. I can't do this."

Declan's outburst kept your feet frozen in place. Had he really just admitted to wanting you as badly as you wanted him.

You felt your hand roll the zipper of your dress down your side, your body moved without force as you slipped the straps over your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"Fuck..." Declan barely breathed out the word. His stare devouring every inch of your skin.

"I'm not doing this." Declan uttered again barely even audible as if only to himself before striding towards you. His fingers found your hips as he thrust you against the door.

His lips were on yours before your back found the solid wood behind you.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up towards him, trying to bring your body as close to his own as possible. You needed every gap between you gone. You wanted to feel the heat of him even on this sticky summer evening.

"What am I doing?" Declan broke away and dropped to his knees, placing a firm hand on the middle of your stomach to hold you flush against the door.

There was a deep hunger in his eyes as he lifted one of your thighs up onto his shoulder, never breaking his gaze from your face to almost check if what he was doing was allowed.

You threw your head up, trying to find the air he had stolen from you, one hand finding a grip within his dark curls as your welcome reply.

"Please." You whispered.

Declan moved your panties to the side, a finger running over your folds, sending fire against your skin before he closed his mouth around you.

You let your eyes roll back as his tongue darted across your clit. Electricity filled your body with every moment of contact.

You felt his fingers circle lightly around your entrance. Your hand jumped from his thick curls to tightly grip the back of his own that pushed against your stomach. His grip on you felt as if it were all that was holding you up.

"You want me this badly?" Declan asked with a mixture of teasing and shock. The wetness of your heat coated the tip of his fingers and glistened on the dark hairs of his moustache.

"I've imagined this so many times." You admit honestly.

"I best live up to your expectations then." Declan inserted a finger inside of you, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips, which made Declan's cock twitch inside his boxer shorts. "Shhhh"

You placed your free hand over your mouth to which Declan smiled a toothy grin at you.

"Good girl" he purred.

Declan rose to his feet as he placed another finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you in a painfully slow motion that only made you ache for more.

Declan turned the lock on his door with his other hand before pulling himself away from you completely.

You pouted at the lack of contact to which he tutted.

"So impatient." He uttered as he undid his belt, pulling it from its loops and then kicking his trousers down.

Your eyes fell on the large member pressed against his underwear. The tip seeping precum through the material in a dark stain.

"Go to my desk." Declan ordered.

You almost ran over, Declan caught you by the waist and lifted you up onto it. Spreading your legs with his knee.

"Are you sure you want this?" Declan stripped himself of his shirt, revealing his chest covered with dark thick hair that you reached out to touch. This didn't feel real.

"More than anything." The words were so quiet but Declan seemed to hear them as he freed himself from his underwear.

You reached behind and unclasped your bra.

"Jesus..." He took a handful of your breast, squeezing you firmly as he stroked his member.

"Declan, please." You couldn't wait any longer. The ache pained you.

Declan didn't need to be told twice.

He tore your underwear down your legs and pressed his tip slowly into you.

You bit down on your lip hard to stop yourself from making any noise.

"Holy fuck..." Declan failed at being quiet. You were so tight against him he felt he could've finished inside of you within minutes.

You reached forward and hooked a grip behind his neck, encouraging him deeper inside of you.

"Fuck me please." you pleaded, trying to move your own hips to create some friction.

Declan took the hint and began thrusting into you quickly. His fingers almost bruising your skin as he held you steady on the desk.

The rattle of the belongings on the desk seemed to echo around the room alongside the slapping of skin.

Declan lifted you up, still inside of you and gently placed you down on the floor.

He hovered above you, just like he had once before, watching your face twist in pleasure as he fucked you.

You squeezed his shoulders, your nails leaving an impression whilst he brought you closer to your climax. You pressed your hips up into his creating hot friction against your clitoris, making you throb inside.

"Declan..." You tried to let him know; still trying to whisper to stay quiet.

"Cum for me, princess." Declan smirked, his stare never faltering as he rode you through to your end. He could feel you tighten around him only encouraging him to fuck you harder and deeper.

You bit down on your hand as your climax convulsed through you. Your body shaking in between Declan and the floor.

Declan moved you both effortlessly, lying on his back with you sat on top of him.

You leant ever so slightly forward, steadying yourself with your hand stretched out against his chest.

You smiled wickedly at him as you rolled your hips.

You felt exhausted by your own finish but knew you wanted to see the older man in the same state.

"That's a good girl." Declan held onto your hips, helping you pick up your pace.

His lips parted as he watched you ride him, sweat dripping down your skin mixing with his own as his dick twitched inside of you.

"Fuck (Y/n)." Declan cursed.

You shifted your hand to his neck, Declan almost laughed, flipping you again so that he was behind you. Both of you on your knees as he held you against his chest, his hand wrapped firmly around your neck with his opposite arm securely around your middle.

The sensation was almost unbearable as his thick member pumped in and out of you at such speed.

"You think you want to be a bad girl?" Declan hissed in your ear.

You could only shake your head.

"Bad girls get punished." Declan bit hard down on your shoulder and you fought to not cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"You're mine now." Declan's own proclamation brought himself to his own climax. He pulled out, spilling his seed over his own thighs to avoid finishing inside of you much to your own disappointment.

"I know you wanted that inside of you like the dirty girl you are." Declan teased you as he gave your throat one final soft squeeze.

You fell against him, both trying to catch your breath.

"Declan?" A voice and a knock came at the door.

"Shit..." The realisation of what had just happened and where it just happened hit Declan like a cricket bat to the face.

"I'll be out in a mo." Declan scrambled for his underwear and you did the same.

"Hurry up! I know that's where you're hiding the good stuff!" Bas' voice was more evident now and whilst he was definitely talking about the whiskey. The both of you couldn't help but laugh.

[rin-may-1103]

The Wrong Robin Au (part four)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Danny slowed his car down, staring at the black iron gate coming into view; Bats and ivy welded on in an elegant pattern, obviously more thought-out than The Drake's ducks had been. He had to give it to Tim, the kid had been right about how stupid the ducks looked.

Glancing around, Danny found he was completely alone on the dirt road. The gray sky slowly brightened as the sun climbed higher in the distance, trees swaying in the gentle breeze, and birds chirped.

If it hadn't been for his experiences at Vlad's place, he would have found the scenery comforting, maybe even inviting. But the knowledge that this was the home of a billionaire, one that went out at night to fight crime like a furry on crack nonetheless, ruined it.

Maybe he should just head back to the motel...

...

Fuck it, when had Phantom ever backed down? That's right! Never! Danny was going to stick to his metaphorical guns and follow through with his admittedly stupid plan.

Taking his foot off the brake; Danny activated his intangibility, shared it with the car, and drove through the gate. (look, what were his powers for if not to make his life convenient? He deserved it after literally dying for them. AND the gate was probably locked. There was no way he could convince someone to let him in at this time in the morning, so...)

Danny kept an eye on his surroundings as he drove, he doubted Bruce Wayne would have ghost vultures working for him, but that doesn't mean Danny wouldn't be prepared if he did.

Eventually, a large building came into view. Its gothic architecture and obvious timely design set it apart from Vlad's modern monstrosity of a castle. Danny could just tell this was a home for a family with old money; the weathered roof and aged water fountain told stories of the people who used to live there. This was a home, not just a house.

Pulling his car over and parking, Danny quickly sent a mental prayer to the home's ancestors. He hoped they could forgive him for what he was about to do.

Grabbing his backup phone and his keys, Danny tossed the car door open and stepped out. Immediately his senses were clouded with grief and anger. It was so strong he almost lost his footing. The house was just drenched in the emotions, tendrils reaching out and wrapping around anything and everything.

Closing his eyes, Danny held his breath so he could focus on blocking the emotions out. (flashes of someone else's memories rushed past his mind; a glimpse of a young boy sitting in a library reading a book. An older man sitting next to him silently. In another flash, the two were now in a dark cave, the light of a computer the only thing illuminating them as the older man draped a blanket across the boy's back. whispered words of sincere promises echoed in his head.)

He had believed Tim, but he hadn't expected it to be this bad. Ancients, this was worse than when he had to deal with Spectra.

Batman definitely needed therapy.

...

Maybe Jazz should be Robin instead, she'd know how to handle this properly. but Jazz wasn't here right now, she was in Sweden learning all about mental health. Which meant Danny would have to do this himself.

yay.

He had two options; One, he sits down with the man and they have a sincere and very emotional conversation. Or two, he beats it into the guy's head that he needs to stop going out and trying to get himself killed. Based on everything he knows about Batman? It was going to be number two that was going to get results... Well, at least Danny had experience punching things until he got what he wanted. (even if it didn't always work.)

Shaking himself out of his mind, Danny started making his way to the front door. It was past five in the morning, Bruce should be home now. Whether he was sleeping like Danny would assume he usually did, was a different question altogether.

Glancing around the door, Danny found there was a large rope hanging to the left. Vlad had the same thing at his place, it was an old-fashioned doorbell.

shrugging, Danny pulled on the rope and waited.

and waited.

and waited.

After a minute or two, Danny pulled the rope again. Suddenly the door swung open to reveal an older man dressed in a nice waistcoat and trousers.

"Can I help you?" the man asked, a British accent completing the look.

Danny blinked for a second before quickly focusing back on his task. "My name's Danny. Bruce is being a dumbass who needs to take a chill pill and take a step back from hospitalizing criminals. Can I come in?"

It was the old man's turn to stare and blink at him. After a minute, the man stepped back and opened the door, his eyebrow raised. "I would like to see how you plan to tell this to Master Bruce. His office is this way, young man."

"May I ask what exactly you're doing here?" the man asked, closing the door behind Danny.

Danny shrugged, "I'm here to beat some sense into him. He's going to get himself killed and no one wants to see what happens when he does."

The butler, because the rich fruitloop would obviously have one, hummed as he nodded his head in agreement. "I see. Maybe this is what he needs then. he won't listen to me, no matter how much I nag him."

Nothing else was said as he guided Danny through the manor, eventually stopping at a fancy dark wooden door. "Master Bruce, you appear to have a visitor." Then He opened the door and gestured for Danny to enter.

He only had a moment to ponder how he should do this before he entered the room. He should keep his powers hidden, for now at least.

He was greeted with the sight of an exhausted man in a bathrobe sitting at his desk and staring out the window. He was clutching a very worn and loved book in his hands, his brows slightly furrowed. (Danny noted that it was the same book the kid had been reading, The Hero and the Crown... or something like that, Danny hadn't really gotten a good look at the title.)

The butler stepped back, closing the door, and stood next to it to maybe await his new orders. Ones he probably wouldn't get any time soon, if the way Bruce hadn't moved or responded meant anything.

Well, if the old man wanted to see this then who was Danny to stop him?

Stepping forward, Danny leaned over the desk and slapped the back of Bruce's head. The man swiftly turned and stared at him, raising one of his hands to touch his head in shock. Danny heard the butler choke in surprise but ignored him. He could only pray to Clockwork that Bruce didn't kill him for this.

"You are being absolutely idiotic, dude." Danny declared. "Do you think Jason would have wanted you to act like this?" Bruce stood up, his chair slamming into the wall, his eyes burning in anger. "No? Then get your shit together and be the man he would be proud of."

Bruce lunged over the desk, his fist pulled back to hit Danny. It was just like Danny expected, just like Tim had told him, the man was letting his emotions control his actions. Dodging to the side, Danny continued talking, "This going out every night, fighting more and more dangerous and outlandish people all by yourself? It's going to get you killed."

Bruce gave up on trying to punch him, instead, he threw himself forward and body-slammed Danny to the floor. Danny coughed, quickly blocking his face as Bruce took a swing at him. Using the man's blind anger to his advantage, Danny kicked Bruce in the chest and sent him flying into his desk. "Jason's dead. It sucks. and it hurts. It's probably the worst pain you've ever experienced, but there's nothing you can do about it."

Danny glared at the man as he scrambled into a crouch, waiting to see what Bruce did next. "Shut up," the man growled, shoving himself up and away from his desk. He picked up his stapler; he was probably either going to use it as a blunt weapon or throw it at Danny. Widening his stance, Danny got ready to dodge or lunge.

He remembered reading about him, online when he first became Phantom. He remembered reading about Robin and Batman and how they worked together to protect Gotham. How they tirelessly worked day and night to put their rogues away every time they got out again.

He remembered seeing pictures of Batman standing next to little Robin, a proud smile on his face as the police took the criminals away. Pictures of the man helping and protecting Robin whenever the boy couldn't handle whatever mess he had gotten into. There was even a memorable one of Batman scolding an obviously sheepish Robin, a knocked-out Riddler slumped behind him.

He had wished so badly for someone to help him back them, for someone to be his Batman when times got hard. He remembered how devastated he was when it turned out the only person like him was Vlad. Vlad, who had wanted to murder his father and marry his mother. Vlad, who had overshadowed people to gain more wealth and power. Vlad, who hadn't seen how wrong it was to try and clone him.

He remembered the comments and videos from the citizens of Gotham, cheering for their heroes when they succeeded in capturing the rogues. How they still supported them when they failed. It was nothing like Amity's reaction to him.

He remembered how Gothom reacted when Robin was pronounced dead. How the city had cried and raged. He felt it all the way over in Amity, the grief and anger. The whole city had come together to mourn the boy who protected them. Even two years later, Danny could still feel the echoes.

"Jason's dead. He's dead and gone and you're letting yourself get consumed with your grief. but you made a promise Bruce."

Danny knew he had, it was the same promise Danny had made just four years ago.

Bruce's eyes widened and the anger that was surging in his eyes froze for just a moment. His hand loosened around the stapler but didn't let it go. The butler looked concerned, unsure if he should interfere or not.

"You made a promise all those years ago when you first dawned that stupid bat suit. You promised to do everything in your power to help your city. To protect it. Robin made the same promise. When he took up his suit. They both did."

Bruce's jaw tensed, his eyes narrowing. Danny lowered his body, still ready to dodge at a moment's notice.

"You made a promise to your son, Bruce. Even if he didn't know it. One that you couldn't keep."

Bruce threw the stapler, making Danny jump to the side to dodge it. His mistake was not keeping an eye on what Bruce did after throwing it. The man quickly rushed up to him, eyes blazing in anger. "You don't know anything!" he cried, his fist slamming into Danny's jaw. Danny staggered back but ducked under the next punch.

"I lost my son! I wasn't there!" Bruce shouted, kicking Danny's legs out from under him. Danny's back hit the floor, knocking the breath out of him. Bruce followed him down, breaking his nose with another punch to the face. "I promised I would protect him and I wasn't there!"

Danny growled, catching Bruce's fist in his hand and sending a punch at the side of Bruce's head. Bruce tried to lean back, Danny's fist clipping his forehead. Bruce grunted, reaching up to grab Danny's fist to keep him from punching him again.

"You couldn't protect him! I get it, it sucks!" Danny shouted back, flashes of Dani's melting form grasping at his shirt in panic pulled to the front of his mind. "It leaves a black hole in the center of your chest! It sucks all the warmth out of you, leaving only the cold bitter knowledge that you couldn't save him!" (that he couldn't save her)

Bruce pulled his fist out of Danny's hand, slamming his elbow down into Danny's chest and twisting Danny's right arm sharply in an attempt to break it. Danny kept talking though, ignoring the pain as he pulled his arm out of Bruce's grasp, "But Jason made a promise! and you're doing nothing to keep it!"

Danny grabbed onto Bruce's bathrobe and flipped them so Bruce was the one on the floor now. Quickly reaching up, Danny grabbed both of Bruce's hands and held them as still as he could. Bruce was strong, but Danny had years of fighting Skulker and the other super-strong ghosts under his belt. "He made that promise knowing that you had made the same one!"

Bruce growled, throwing his head up in an attempt to hit Danny with it. Danny leaned back, accidentally loosening his grip just enough for Bruce to break out of it. Bruce shoved him off of him, making Danny slide back and hit a chair.

Grunting, Danny stood up and lunged at Bruce. Bruce dodged to the side, dropping down to pick the stapler back up. "I can't claim to know what Jason would have wanted," Danny spat, backing up to give himself more space as Bruce stepped toward him. "but I know as someone who made the same promise, I wouldn't have wanted you to change into what you are now!"

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Danny, "Yeah, and what's that?" he growled.

"A careless, suicidal, moron," Danny growled back.

Bruce froze, stopping in place as he stared at Danny.

Danny took his chance to drive his point home; standing up straight, he raised his hands up in surrender. "He was your son. He looked up to you for protection. For guidance. And sure, maybe you weren't the best dad, and maybe you made mistakes. But you were his dad."

Danny stepped forward, watching as the butler stepped forward to reach out to the man. "and what kind of son would want his dad to kill himself?"

Bruce dropped his stapler, his eyes falling to the ground and catching onto the book he had dropped earlier. It was opened to the front page, written words in messy writing covering it.

"You need to stop, Bruce," Danny said, slowly crouching down and reaching out for the book. Bruce watched him as he stood up, the book still open to the front page in his hands. Jason's writing visible to all of them.

"you couldn't keep your promise to protect him. It sucks and it hurts. but you can keep his promise. The same promise you made all those years ago."

Bruce looked up at him, his blue eyes filling with tears, the butler's hand resting on his shoulder. Danny stepped forward again, holding the book out for Bruce to take.

"You can't protect Gotham if you're dead."

Jason's handwritten note stared up at them, the ink messy and smudged.

'to the best dad in the world and the many adventures we'll go on!'

and Bruce? Bruce crumbled to the floor with a sob, leaving Danny to stand in front of him. Blood running down his face, staining his hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pants, the book still held out with steady hands.

Next

[angel-dustspo]

My guide to˚⊹.⋆𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. romanticising life ⋆.ೃ࿔*

Life is truly the most important gift of all and I feel like too many people don't actually take it seriously enough or are just afraid of what anybody else might say if they choose to live the way they have always wanted to. Wasting the only opportunity to cherish this gift of life that we have been blessed with is the worst thing you could ever do for yourself. Imagine yourself 40 years from now, regretting that you wasted your teenage and adulthood years worrying about your looks, not enjoying good food, not taking care of yourself or being too careful of your budget and never getting the things you truly wanted. That's surely NOT how I'd like to spend my old age, and my ultimate goal is to think back and be happy that I lived my life exactly the way I wanted!

Romanticising life is all about turning every. little. moment. into something that makes YOU happy, no matter what society might think about it. It's a form of self expression that I fondly believe can help you become happy and at peace with your own self.

Here are some ways to romanticise your life:

ׂ╰┈➤ Stop consuming harmful media. Tiktok, for example, is such a bad place for your mental health and is constantly ruining your attention span and productivity, image of self but, most importantly, your HEALTH AND BEAUTY STANDARDS. It is also one of the causes of many mental health problems such as depression, eds, self h@rming or negative addictions, so try and avoid harmful social media as much as possible.

ׂ╰┈➤ Establish a morning and night routine. I promise this will make you feel so productive and in control of your life. Nothing fancy is necessary, just basic hygiene and skincare, having breakfast, maybe reading or journaling to wind down at night.

ׂ╰┈➤ Consistently work out. "Well Lynna how am I supposed to work out if you said to enjoy life??" Enjoying does not mean that you shouldn't take care of your body too. Find what works best for you and what makes you happy, don't jump into the youtube advanced workouts and then complain that you hate moving your body. Yoga and walks are such a good place to start, or 10 minute workouts a few times per week will make such a difference in both your mind and body. With just a bit of discipline and consistency you will start to love working out and move your body and tend to do it out of habit.

ׂ╰┈➤ Take yourself out for coffee or a pastry! Solo dates can be just as fun as normal ones.

ׂ╰┈➤ Spend more time with family and friends. Humans will not be with you forever and enjoying every moment with them is such an important thing in life.

ׂ╰┈➤ Buy pretty pajamas, light a candle, take long bubble baths, do a face mask, listen to calm music, read, paint, express yourself in any way you want.

ׂ╰┈➤ Clean your environment and surround yourself with the colors and furniture that you love.

ׂ╰┈➤ Dress the way you want to, not how everybody expects you to.

ׂ╰┈➤ Always try new things: that yoga class you heard from your friend, a new pastry that looked so good in the shop window, some book you saw online.

ׂ╰┈➤ Be open minded and present in your life. Live in the present and you will become happy with your past and future.

Although aesthetics do play a big part in romanticising, you can do it without spending a lot of money, effort or time. The need of making everything "aesthetic" is just as consuming and bad for you as not doing anything at all.

Learn to enjoy and cherish every little moment and that will bring you on the path of happiness. Please take good care of yourself, good luck on your wellness journey and thank you so much for reading this post!!

Love, L

[goldfades]

𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "STOP IM SO HAPPY UR MAKING PAIGE X WBB MEDIA MANAGER A SERIES BC I SENT IN THE FIRST REQUEST 😽😽😽 fic with paige and reader being out and a little wasted and getting interviewed by fellow college student about their relationship and working together etc. (could end in smut if u like ;)) // inspo: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTL9fH1p1/" (love you nonnie thank you for giving me the idea to make this series, ur the best mwahhhh hope you enjoyed)

─ word count | 1k

─ warnings | so much sexual tension its bad, paige being possessive (in a cutesy way!), interviewer being kinda weird/suggestive, mentions of drinking/getting high, some language, nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | okay so this is kinda part of the manager series (if u guys want it to be) or if u have no idea what it is, thats fine!!!! i wanted to make it a standalone cus it felt better to me that way but whichever you'd like to read it, read it!! idk why that specific tiktok is my roman empire, it's just the way she talks and EVERYTHING makes me physically so like..... obsessed i don't even know, like GODDDDD im so attracted to her

YOUR FEET HAD begun to hurt an hour ago and your entire body felt sore, though you didn't feel very tired though.

You were two and half redbull vodkas in and let's just say you were tipsy; you weren't quite drunk yet but you were definitely on the way. As you stumbled slightly through the sidewalks of the UConn campus, your only guide was Paige's hand on your waist. The combination of the alcohol and Paige's presence made everything seem surreal, like you were walking through a really good dream.

You felt giddy, that was the only way you could describe it. You were drunk, sure but mostly off of Paige's lingering touch. You were excited by it, as if every brush of her fingers against your skin sent a jolt of electricity through your body. The night air was crisp, but you hardly noticed as you leaned into her warmth, reveling in the sensation of her warmth.

Paige's laughter bubbled up beside you was infectious, pulling you deeper. You found yourself laughing along, not entirely sure what was so funny but not exactly caring either. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you in a bubble of tipsy euphoria.

You and Paige leaned against the railing, a cup in her hand as she gazed at you while you spoke about god-knows-what, she wasn't really sure anymore. She was zoned out until she felt a tap on her shoulder, to be met with a pair of new eyes.

Her face contorted into confusion as she sat up, glancing at you then back at the stranger. "Are you Paige and Y/N?"

"Yeah, what's up?" She replied quickly as she straightened up, a forced smile on her face.

He returned the smile gratefully, "I'm a big fan, uh... can we interview you two?" The guy spoke quickly as he glanced back at his friend, who was waving awkwardly.

Paige glanced back at you with a smile of her own as she waited for your approval. You nodded slowly as you glanced back at the guys as you surveyed the surroundings. "Just be chill, okay?"

He nodded as his friend pulled out his phone as he took out his phone and began using it as a microphone. He cleared his throat as he smiled, looking at his friend to start recording.

"Who are here with today?" He spoke as he brought it up to Paige's lips, then yours.

"Paige Bueckers,"

"And uh, Y/N L/N. By the way, she's not drinking alcohol," you added with a smile as Paige laughed.

Paige nodded and gestured to her drink. "I'm drinking a shirley temple, no alcohol."

"Yeah, we don't do that around here." The guy added with a laugh as the two of you glanced at each other, holding in your laughter.

Paige grinned, her tone amused as she played. "Y/N's here to keep in check though,"

"So you guys are actually close, like outside all the sports stuff?" He glanced in between you guys, noticing the close proximity between you.

You shared a knowing look with Paige. "Oh yeah, Paige and I are practically inseparable," you replied with a grin, your voice laced with fondness.

Paige nodded as she gazed at you, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, Y/N's my girl, on and off the court."

You couldn't help but feel warm under her unwavering gaze as you laughed and averted your gaze back to the guy who was watching you two closely.

"As in like, best friend?" He clarified as he looked back at the camera with a laugh.

"What else?" Paige replied with amusement and slight agitation as she finally broke her gaze, a small laugh leaving her lips. "Obviously,"

"How is it like working together though, if you guys are really close? If I had to spend all that time with my best friend, not sure I would make it." The interviewer joked as he glanced back at the camera.

Paige furrowed her eyebrows as she laughed. "It's not bad at all, it's really fun. We hang out a lot, we get to go on trips together and share hotel rooms, it's a blessing."

She glanced back at you with a smile as you nodded slowly, feeling yourself draw closer to her. "Yeah, it is a blessing," that was all you could get out as you watched Paige wet her lips and laugh, turning away slightly.

You were pretty sure that the interviewer had caught on to the obvious tension but you didn't care at this point, you were lost in the moment, captivated by Paige. The interviewer's words seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn closer to her, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement.

"Why do you wear Paige's jersey rather than anyone else's?" He asked, his tone laced with amusement as he watched you zone back in.

Paige's eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the guy, clearly getting annoyed by his stupid question. But before she could respond with a less polite answer, you did with a laugh. "I don't only wear her jersey, it was one time and it was because it was her first game back after her injury."

Paige's expression softened as she nodded in agreement, her irritation dissipating. "Yeah, it meant a lot to me to see her wearing my jersey that day."

The interviewer nodded before he glanced back at the camera before to you two again. "Okay, okay. Last question, do you think you could beat me in a 1v1?"

"Absolutely," Paige replied with a laugh as she grabbed your arm and pulled you away, beginning to walk off before the interviewer kept talking.

"Okay bet, whoever wins gets to take Y/N out," he called out, his tone playful as he flashed a smirk toward the camera.

Paige turned around to give him the nastiest glare of all time as she kept walking forward. "I already do that, bro."

You stifled a laugh at Paige's quick retort, her playful possessiveness bringing a warmth to your cheeks. The interviewer's eyes widened in surprise at Paige's response, clearly caught off guard by her boldness as he laughed, turning back to the camera.

You two just walked off as Paige's hand moved down back to your waist as you continued on your way. Despite the slightly heated exchange, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at Paige's possessiveness.

──── COMMENTS

cam 🎀 | this has to be their hard launch or something cus DAMN😭 ♡ 792

↳ user893492948493 | ngl i can't even deny it anymore and i was the biggest anti paige and y/n person OUT THERE

↳ lily :p | "my girl" 🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

Jake | is it just me or does paige like girls? ♡ 701

↳ ella :) | ????? yeah????

↳ Jake | this is news to me uhh

lovergirl <3 | okay what about sharin hotel rooms now... ♡ 432

ZM | bro why would u say that 😭😭😭 in front of PAIGE BUECKERS 😭😭 ♡ 1.1k

✌🏼💥💁🏻‍♀️ | am i interrupting something... 😰 ♡ 994

cailey ☀️ | okay who is y/n whats her instagram where does she go who is she is she dating anyone wow shes beautiful ♡ 2k

↳ 💯💯 | everyones collective reaction when they first see y/n

↳ cailey ☀️ | going through a rabbit hole rn brb, she's so pretty what 😭

↳ #1 swiftie 💍 | cailey watch out girl ur on paige's watchlist now....

🤗🤗 | the damn tension in air damn im not even y/n and i feel hot ♡ 118

Thomas W | they are both drunk as hell bro what is up with the laughing 😭 ♡ 1.2k

user83948928932 | bro met y/n l/n and paige bueckers and continued to ask the worst questions of all time ♡ 591

↳ uconn luvr | and paige was good with the comebacks like okayyy baee protect ur girl!!

↳ 💥 bow | they are not dating, can two girls just be friends anymore?

↳ uconn luvr | she literally calls her "my girl" in like the first 2 seconds of the video

Isabelle Reece ✨ | paige was too quick w that reply to just be "best friends" with her 💀 ♡ 903

↳ ur fav aries | bro i know she was smooth with it too like💁🏻‍♀️

y/n's bitch 💙 | idk who i wanna be more y/n or paige ♡ 252

↳ mikey 🤑 | theyre both so hot

↳ 🧚‍♀️ | mike ima have sit you down for this...

↳ taylor! | ohh... thats not...

Chris | shes cooking you respectfully ♡ 1k

i 💙 uconn wbb | if this doesn't prove y/n and paige are together idk what will

♡ 853

────

part 2?? cus i lowk wanna write smut for this now... lmk

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[yaut-jaknowit]

Just wanted to say thank you for writing my ask! <3 I love all your works and when I saw it I got all giddy!

It sounds like you're really busy so don't worry about about continuing! I'm happy with what's written already!! <3

A Total Smash Part 2

Pairings: Dai'stbaen (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, thigh fucking, kinda? dirty talking, P in V, knotting, creampies, hints of breeding (if you squint).

Word Count: 3904

Summary: After your front door was busted down by a bad blood, your house is far too cold to sleep in alone. Dai'stbaen and yourself are forced to share a bed to keep the other alive. The cold is killing even when you are cocooned in by blankets. Dai'stbaen takes it upon himself to make sure you survive. Close contact turns into something else.

Author Note: Alright, I hoped I redeemed myself in this part! I know you didn't ask for a second part but I had someone do It. Plus, I felt a need to finish it off. So, I busted butt and whipped this thing out for you.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1

The bed was familiar underneath you; offering relief after a long, hard day. In this moment of time, it didn’t give a sense of ease or content. Your spine was tense from base to head. An alien figure laid next to you, breaths barely heard in the silence of your house. Someone you had only met hours ago and now had to sleep next to for warmth. Anyway to survive the night so you could make it to tomorrow for a trip to town.

Everything felt off. The silence that engulfed the entire house since the heat had been shut off. There was no use of keeping it on. That’ll will only burn out the system and make for a pain in the ass at a later date. You used the blankets to cover yourself more as the biting cold nipped through the ones you already had on you.

Yet, as you laid there longer, the cold grew more and more. Your jaw clenched to stop it from chattering. This night was going to be terrible and long. There wasn’t a chance you could sleep this off until morning.

Movement at your side caught your attention. Before you knew it, a hot, thick arm curled around your abdomen. You froze up more, hands immediately going down to grasp the muscles. The arm tugged you from one side of the bed to the other. A yelp surged past your lips. Your back was pressed against a calming warmth that soaked into your veins. You were already starting to relax when his voice broke the silence.

“There’s no need for you to shiver yourself to death. I will not allow that to happen,” he rumbled above your head. Dai’stbaen cocooned around your much smaller form. His one arm stayed firmly around your torso. The other curled under you to follow the same path as the other.

The blankets that covered him were only three layers thick. His warmth surrounded you and fought off the cold. You scootched closer to him and notched your hips snuggly against his. To keep yourself as tightly pressed to him as possible. You wanted to steal all of his heat for your own, the cold making you bitter. Yet, his warmth was softening you up.

Dai’stbaen tensed behind you, arms locking around your torso. You acted the same, afraid you somehow did something wrong. A deep rumbled poured from his chest.

“Careful.” Short, sweet, but all the threatening. A warning. You shrunk down a little and held your breath. The alien kept his grip on you tight to stop you from moving an inch more. “Stop moving,” he grunted out. One of his hands reached for your jaw and tilted your head to the side. His bright eyes could be seen through the low light of the room.

“S-sorry.” You didn’t know if it was from the cold still nipping at you or the fear that gripped your heart. The longer you laid there, the more freezing your feet got. You tried to hold off since he warned you. But when you began to lose feeling, you pushed them against his shins.

His entire body jerked. His arms completely squishing you to his chest and left no space for even a hair. A growled pierced the air. Dai’stbaen began to move. His body leaned over you and snatched more blankets from your side of the bed. They were tossed over the two of you. You gratefully took them and positioned them more over your legs.

“Better?” His voice was deeper than normal. You hummed and nodded happily. You rubbed your feet against his warm shins and began to get feeling back in them. He grunted, legs twitching for a few times before stopping. “Oomans and their fragileness.” He rewrapped his arm back around you and kept you close as possible to him. You started to relax again.

“It’s not my fault it’s cold,” you pouted and shifted again. His abs tensed against your lower back. “I’m sorry I’m not some furnace of heat.” The dark red alien chuckled then hooked a leg over your hip.

“Oomans are fragile. Yautjas are strong.” You rolled your eyes and huffed. The Yautja chortled and flexed his muscles in his arms. “You are soft and plushy.” Your head jerked back and knocked against his throat. He made choking noise for a moment then growled. You wiggled and struggled against his hold as anger flared through you. That was the last thing you thought he would said to you. Such rudeness!

Dai’stbaen held onto you tightly and tried to rein you back in carefully. “Plushy?! Seriously, that’s what you decided to call me.” At notion of him calling you plushy, you grew agitated. He essential called you fat. 

As a last resort, Dai’stbaen wrapped a hand firmly around your throat. All of your movements stopped. Hips stilling then noticing a bulge pressing against swell of your ass cheeks. “I said… to stop moving,” he snapped, hand twitching around your feeble throat. One wrong twitch could snap your neck like a twig. He wasn’t going to do that but your constant rubbing was clouding his thoughts.

One thing you didn’t expect was to learn aliens had the same anatomy as your own species. You swallowed hard. Idiotically enough, you swirled your hips back. The bulge twitched under your administrations. Dai’stbaen grunted and curled in over you. “You…” the Yautja trailed off, letting his claws bite into the soft flesh of your throat. He knew he could kill you, harm you so easily. It wouldn’t take much to do so.

Alone for so long, you blamed the need swelling in your chest on loneness. It’s been so long since you were held like this, by someone who at least seems concerned about your wellbeing. He didn’t want you to freeze and willingly let you steel his warmth as his own.

It’s been too long.

The smell of your arousal entered the air despite all the blankets that covered your form. He groaned and only rutted his crotch against the plush of your butt. He’s never felt something so soft before. He never knew ooman’s were so soft like this. Or else he would’ve been here long ago.

“Tell me… tell me you want this,” he demanded in a firm tone. The vibrations set across your skin with goosebumps following suit. You took a sharp breath in then keened, hips rocking back against the growing bulge. Dai’stbaen snarled and pinched the sides of your neck, restricting blood flow to your brain. “Words, ooman.”

“Yes!” you choked out and felt the affects of restricted blood flow. The Yautja released his hold the moment you consented to advances.

Sharp fangs scrapped against your neck and shoulder. “C’jit, you… we can’t take the blankets off,” he muttered into your flesh. That’s when you realized he was right. The cold was stronger than ever inside of the house. You wouldn’t survive long out from underneath the blankets.

You lifted a leg and tossed it over his hip, exposing yourself to him. Dai’stbaen’s free hand reached to the crotch of your pants, palming against you. A whiny pant left your chapped, dry lips. Your hips rutted against the palm, the friction barely scratching the surface of your lust. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist and tried to guide him into your shorts.

Before you had the chance, his other limb snatches your own wrist and pins both of your arms to your chest. “Needy little thing. Gonna hurt yourself doing c’jit like that,” he scolded and firmly presses his middle fingers into your clothed slit. All of your sounds echoed back at you in the bedroom. Only causing your face to build with heat that stung against the cold.

One thing he can’t stop is the movement of your hips. Each drag of your hips on his finger rubs against your clit. It’s a faded friction but a friction, nevertheless. You tucked your chin into your chest and tried to keep any noises to a minimal.

“Dai, I need this. I can’t take the teasing. I want you,” you begged the hulk of a beast behind you. His movements faltered for only a moment. “It’s been too long. I can’t take much more. I need you.”

The Yautja cursed to himself silently. Your begging was music to his ears. These missions have been hard on him. To finally have something to relieve his stress out on. Someone so small and fragile. Dai’stbaen didn’t want to break you. He was in debt to you twice due to his honor code. He vowed to take care of you in any means possible. This was a win-win situation for him too.

“I will,” he promised and let that hand down south slip down passed your waistband. “I will. Just need to prepare your tiny body for me. Gonna be a tight fit. I’ll make it fit. Treat you so good, little ooman.” His voice hovered next to your ear, making your arms break out in more goosebumps. You shuttered and leaned back against him, head thrown back with the little space offered.

Coarse finger pads slipped between your wet folds, skimming over your engorged clit. You felt nearly the same as a Yautja female with only one clit though. One point to focus on. Dai’stbaen could do that.

He soaked his fingers in your slick before back enough so the rough finger pad of his middle digit was rubbing against you. Your arms strained against his hold. Your first reaction was to cover your mouth to prevent all these pathetic little noises to escape.

“Sh-shit,” you cursed, thigh muscles clenching. Then, you let your lifted leg fall down to trap his hand in place. “Keep doing that. Keep touching me like that.” You felt so strung up after so long without someone else to do this with.

He felt relieve and pride for doing this right without knowing how to work a ooman’s body like this. He took this knowledge and swiped up a little more slick to coat your throbbing clit. Your inner thigh muscles clamped down, hips twitching in a wild manner. In such a way, neither of you knew if it was to jerk away from the overwhelming pleasure or demand more.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach tightened. Your eyes clenched closed. “Fuck, I-I’m gonna… come,” you gasped out and felt the semi-familiar throb in your empty cunt. Your muscles clenching around nothing, desperate for something to fill you.

Teeth pinched at the crook of your neck. Not piercing the skin but enough to send the idea of being dominated straight to your brain.

White overcame your vision. You felt like you were floating the middle of space, free from your body. A scream left your throat but you couldn’t hear, only feel the vibrations. The alien growled against your back and tightened his hold around you. Your entire form twitched when you came back to it. The warmth and strength of him kept you grounded. His tongue licked up a stripe up your neck to the back of your ear. The pleasure never ending, fingers forcing you to take and take.

“C’jit, sei-i. You like that? Yeah, you do. Needy thing coming over my fingers. Gonna fuck you.” When the ringing in your ears finally disappeared, his voice could be heard growling into your ear. Some of his words, you didn’t understand. You took it as if the orgasm still ran its course through your body.

That same hand left the warmth and wetness between your legs to grasp the waistband of your pants. You didn’t have time to ask him what he’s doing. Dai’stbaen rips the cloth straight off of you. A gasp left your lips. His touch left your skin to reach between the two of you. The Yautja messed with own pants until you felt something hot and heavy touch at your lower back. It was wet and soaked into your shirt.

Dai’stbaen pulled his hips back and lined the tip at the apex of your closed thighs. Your muscles clenched at the feeling of this big, thick shaft touching your exposed skin. The head pushed forward and slid between your thighs. The top of it rubbing against your wet folds, skimming over your clit. You moaned and leaned your head back, throat exposed to him.

By the feel of him, he was large. It matched his stature.

A slickness coated him and eased the thrusts between your legs. “Pauk, this feels good, little thing. Gonna use you. Gonna pauk-de use you like the needy ooman you are. Desperate for alien cock.”

Both of his hands go to grip your hips and helped steady you. With your own free now, you reached back behind your head to dig your nails into the back of his neck. The rubbery dreads touched at your skin. You even pulled at one to see his reaction.

He snarled deep from his chest and snapped his hips harshly against yours. If it wasn’t for his hands, you would’ve been nearly flung off the side of the bed. The skin stung from the thrust, heat blooming to life.

“By Paya’s name, do that again.” Instead of clawing at his neck, you tugged on another tress. His pace quickened. The wet slapping of skin against skin could be heard even under all the blankets. All of this movement making you sweat. Drops forming across your skin. You were thankful for the heat that raced through your veins.

Your other hand glide down from your midriff to right above the apex of your thighs. Carefully, you made a circle out of your hands and found where what felt like half of him poked out from your thighs was. The head was pointed and slid through the hole you made. Each thrust, you squeezed the head in your hand.

The growls and hisses that left his throat were music to your ears. It was beauty to reduce a man of his stature to a panting, whining mess just by using your thighs. You started to rock with his motions, meeting him at the halfway point. The slapping of skin only grew louder. Your skin stinging only added to the pool growing in your belly and between your legs.

There was plenty of slick oozing from your cunt to make his ruts smooth as silk. With the hand between your legs, you helped angle him upwards to add pressure to your clit. You tugged on his tresses again at the increased pleasure. “Oh fuck,” you cursed again, toes curling on his skins. “I-I can’t believe y-you’re thigh fucking me.”

His claws dented the skin on your hips. A couple of them piercing the flesh and drawing blood. The pain was easily forgotten about. “Don’t want to hurt you,” he panted back. His jaw clenched and dug his fangs deeper into the crook of your neck. “Too big. Have to compromise.”

Underneath the blankets, it was incredibly hot. You almost wanted to rip them off so you could ride him. You didn’t care if he was too big. Who would pass up an incredible opportunity to get bulldozed by an alien of his size.

His thrusts began to grow sloppy, his growls only increasing in volume. The knot in the pit of your stomach only tightened at the thought. You pulled again on the dread and kept pulling. “I don’t care of you’re too big. I need you inside. At least the tip, please. C-can’t get the blankets dirty,” you tried to reason with him. Even if it was only the tip. Anything to feel his girth stretch you wide. Anything to come on, to squeeze around.

Another growl tumbled from his throat. “Are y-you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.” Dai’stbaen had to make sure as his orgasm started to cloud his thoughts. You were ooman. Small, weak. He didn’t want to hurt or break you. He owed you his life, twice. But, he wouldn’t say he didn’t want to enter you, stretch your small cunt to fit him. Pauk, he really wanted to now.

“Yes, please!” you whined and started to guide the tip towards you soaked entrance. He slowed his thrusts to a stop and grasped the base of his cock to help. The pointed head speared between your folds. Dai’stbaen rutted forward twice, missing your pussy. Until the third time, he sunk home.

Only the head was able to fit snuggly inside of you. You shout his name. Your back arched off of his torso, hips angled down and pushed in an inch more of him.

The alien was panting, doing everything he can to stop from himself from fully sink down to the base. You squeezed him perfectly. The warmth of your pussy was like the best hunting grounds to him. He bit down harder on your neck, not regretting when he heard your whine.

It felt like he was stretching you to the limit. This was exactly what you needed. It’s been far too long since you had someone to do this with. He was hitting the right spot inside of you, making stars appear in your vision.

Your fingers instantly started to swirl around your throbbing nub. Careless mewls poured from your lips like a waterfall. You didn’t care if he heard them anymore.

Pleasure soaked in every corner of your body. You couldn’t even think at this point. Once he was inside and rubbing firmly against your g-spot, that’s when it was all over for you.

Dai’stbaen started to shallowly thrust, trying to be mindful of not to push too far in. Every rut, everything second passing, he was slowly losing his ability to think. He wanted nothing more to pin you down and fully thrust into you. You could take it. Pauk, he was trying so hard.

“Go-gonna come again!” you warned and kept your hips angle. You worked with him and returned to meeting his thrusts. Everyone, it felt like he was going just a centimeter deeper, reaching for your cervix. You were desperate to make that happen.

He felt the way your muscles throbbed hard around him, signaling your end. An end that will trigger him. The Yautja pulled his mouth back enough to rest his closed mandibles in the same spot. He didn’t want to take a chunk out of you if he could help it.

“Yeah? Pauk-di do it. Squeeze my cock needy thing. Needing a cock to come on.” It’s not like he was in a better headspace either. He tensed his jaw, eyes closing to focus solely on you. “Come on. Come all over my pauk-di cock!”

The vibrations his demand sent down your spine had you crying out. Your hips jerked harshly back and forced half of his cock inside of you. Dai’stbaen sputtered as his first instinct was to thrust all the way forward. The knot at the base of his cock barely popped in and formed just on the inside of your muscles. You cried out beautifully and arched against him. He held onto you tightly and curled around you.

His warm seed filled you, making a mess inside of you. You whined and panted; eyes closed as you weakly rested on the bed. Your energy was long lost. Your entire body was buzzing with dopamine.

Dai’stbaen held onto a thread of his sanity. He’s never felt such a vice grip around him, such warmth that welcomed him in. You’ve ruined him for anyone else. How else was he supposed to back to the mothership when he knows this? He knew his claws were hurting you but your lax body was a sign you didn’t even feel it.

The alien groaned into the crook of your neck and released his bruising grip on your hips. He lets one arm drape over your torso. The other stretches out on the bed.

Your walls kept pulsing around his sensitive knot and causing him to jerk. Each move made him move his hips closer, seemingly pushing the ball of flesh more into you.

When you finally settled, the Yautja followed suit. His were closed, basking in the aftermath of a universe rocking orgasm. Pauk, he might just take you with him. He’ll do anything to keep you at his side. Maybe… even have you carry his pups. C’jit, he shouldn’t think that while still inside of him.

Once the rush began to fade and letting you finally feel the situation you were in, you whimpered at the singing pain between you legs. Your hands weakly grasped at the sheets in front of you and attempted to pull yourself away from him. A snarling, threatening growl left his throat. Both arms encircling your torso and keeping you pressed to him. Trapped.

“Stay.” A dark tone to carry out the words.

Yet, with the pain evident between your legs, you couldn’t help but to move. Squirming only made it worse, seemingly pulling something too big lodged inside of you.

“Hurts,” you whined and accidently clenched around the shaft stuck deep inside of you. The Yautja groaned and dragged his claws against your side.

He used his mandibles to pinch the crook of your neck. Your body reacted by stilling under the instinct of his dominance. “I know. I’m sorry. Don’t move. It makes it worse.” Dai’stbaen let go of your neck to lick at the sweat dripping down your skin in a caring manner. “I have a knot. I didn’t mean to… knot you, little one. Just don’t move. It’ll go down on its own.”

Your eyes snapped open. The room was still dim; the only light coming from the snow outside. Did he just sat knot? Like… a dog? You shuttered but did as what you were told.

As time passed, the stinging lessened. Your body growing used to the stretch and accommodating it. Soon enough, it started to feel good, completely pressed against your g-spot like that. You stayed skill though and let the flesh decrease in size. Until it was small enough for it pop out of your abused hole. You clenched your thighs together to prevent any of it dripping down onto the bed and ruining your sheets.

He nuzzled against your shoulder and gave you mock kisses. One of his hands petted down your side. “Did so well, little ooman. Keep it inside like that,” he muttered into your skin. The alien moved around as if he searching for something. His hand grasped an item under the blankets and pushed it between your legs. It was your ripped off shorts. He used them to help trap his seed inside of you and clean the mess up a little.

“Hm, perfect.” His softening cock seemed to disappeared from between the two of your bodies. In you hazed state, you couldn’t care less about it and stayed on your side. The heat the two of you produce was enough to make you continuously sweat under the blankets. But, you refused to take anything off. Just encase the night grows colder.

Pain was evident in your sore body. You turned your head and pressed a chaste kiss against mandible. Dai’stbaen paused in shock before deeply purring and gathering you in his arms for the night. Nothing would or could get to you.

[delulujuls]

young, dumb & bwoke | ln4

hi! as u can see i couldn't stop myself from writing about last saturday events in amsterdam with mr norris as main star (he was more popular than the king himself lmao). lando is literally what i always bring to the function and yup, enjoy him being the chaotic drunk bestie while max and y/n are his literal party parents. its nothing crazy and without plot basically, i just added sum to this years' koningsdag so yeah, enjoy!

summary: there is nothing that lando loves more than a good party and his beloved dutch friends so imagine him with drink in his cup surrounded by whole orange nation. it could be nuts and it was

warnings: TONS of alcohol, lando being drunk (and hurted), mentions of blood, basically sum chaos

pairing: fem!dutch!bff!reader x lando norris (ft. max verstappen)

Lando couldn't wait for the plane he was on to break through the heavy cloud cover and land in Amsterdam.

China and Miami, which were the next rounds on the calendar, were separated by two weeks that were nothing else, in Lando's case, than a time of stagnation. Add to this the fact that Lando had bad memories of his performance in China and, what's worse, the sprint he failed so badly and which constantly played in his head like a jammed record, one could go crazy. That's why the Brit was extremely happy when he received an invitation to spend the weekend in the capital of the Netherlands. He was invited to Amsterdam to celebrate King Willem's birthday by none other than his favorite flying Dutch.

The friendship of Y/N, Max and Lando began in 2019, practically from the very moment he entered Formula 1. The kid, who was barely 20 years old but looked like 12, immediately won over the Dutch couple with his smile and sense of humor, who, due to their sometimes severe temperament, could not boast of having many friends in the paddock. Even though the three friends were only two years apart, Max and Y/N naturally became Lando's racing parents, with whom the Brit spent practically every moment, from time in the paddock, through celebrating on the podium, to time away from competitions. So it was no surprise when they invited him to spend the weekend together, to which he, of course, eagerly agreed.

When the plane landed, Lando pulled the hood of his orange sweatshirt over his head and slung his backpack over his shoulder, in which he packed everything he might need for the coming days. As you could guess, there wasn't much of it, he actually had everything he needed on him and the most important part was an oversized orange sweatshirt. Waiting for him at the airport was Y/N, who couldn't wait to see him. She didn't have to wait too long, because a moment later he walked out in front of the terminal. Y/N smiled as she saw her friend walking towards her and she hugged him tightly.

"You knew I was coming, you could have asked the king for better weather," Lando joked, trying to sound serious, which only made the girl giggle.

"If you think that the weather will have any influence on what will happen in the evening, then unfortunately I will have to disappoint you," she replied, getting into the car. "It's already starting to get crowded in downtown, and it's not even noon."

Lando threw his backpack into the backseat and got into the passenger side. He smiled like a child, looking forward to how the weekend would unfold. It looked like he would spend a nice few days, able to finally de-stress and relax, and in the company of friends. But speaking of friends, one of them was missing.

"And where's Max?" he asked as they left the airport and were on their way to the girl's apartment. "I thought he had been waiting for me with the welcome committee since yesterday."

"He's already in town, I dropped him off while I was on my way to pick you up."

"He's fast," Lando laughed and shook his head, "I hope he's still on his feet when we get to him."

At that moment, Lando didn't think about the fact that no one else but himself would be able to stay on his feet. When the Brit set off for Amsterdam, he obviously expected to spend two days drunk, with legs sore from dancing and a sore throat from singing, but he forgot that he has absolutely no immunity to alcohol.

When the three friends were finally together, alcohol quickly appeared in their hands. Y/N and Max started with beer, but Lando had no intention of wasting his time drinking something that would only cause pressure on his bladder. As soon as he boarded one of the barges floating on the Herenbracht Canal, he drank several shots at once. Y/N and Max just exchanged glances as he drank the drink standing on Garrix's console in one gulp, who didn't care one bit about it, being already in a good mood himself.

"I'm a little worried about how this might end," Max said in her ear as she took a sip of her cider, watching Lando jump happily.

"Even if he's drunk, so what," she replied, handing him her bottle and taking away the body paints in circulation, "He didn't come here to be bored."

Max was about to say something, but she pushed his hand slightly, bringing the bottle he was holding to his lips. Max shook his head and took a few sips from it, while the girl started painting flags on his cheeks. When she finished, she waved them up, attracting Lando's attention, who understood what she meant and nodded eagerly. The girl squeezed through the console and stood next to him, leaning him against the barge rails, because Lando had trouble not bobbing to the music for a moment.

The smile that never left his face wrinkled his cheeks, on which she tried to paint Dutch flags. When she finished and turned to pass the paints, Lando took off her sunglasses and put them on himself.

"Have a drink with me!" Lando shouted, holding out his empty cup to her, and she raised her cider bottle in response. He rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction when suddenly a bottle of vodka appeared in the crowd and someone handed it straight to his hands. Without much thought, Lando unscrewed the cap and took a few sips as if the contents were water, which of course met with the crowd's approval.

Y/N took the bottle from his hands, fearing not the amount Lando drank, but the relatively short time it took him to do so. However, not wanting to seem boring, she tilted the bottle herself, letting the liquid burn her throat. Delighted, Lando clapped his hands and hugged his friend, causing some of the alcohol to flow down her chin. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist as well, and raised her hand in a toast, which was joined by everyone who had something to drink.

Max also raised his beer bottle a bit. However, somewhere in the background of his mind there was an image of Lando and what he would look like in the near future. However, the Brit himself did not care at all about this. As long as he was in the company of his friends, his plastic cup was full and he could jump to the music and sing along, he was happy. Even the fact that his face was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when someone, completely by accident, punched him in the face, didn't disturb it.

Y/N, who also decided to pick up the pace after drinking her cider, immediately sobered up when she saw blood on her friend's face. She quickly pressed a tissue to his nose, but he tried to assure her that he was fine. His brain didn't encode the impact or the pain, didn't acknowledge that he was bleeding, even when he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted blood on them. People in the crowd started calling out to each other to see if anyone had a first aid kit. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bandage appeared, and just as Y/N, being drunk, thought it would be a great idea to wrap Lando's face in a bandage, Max started asking people if they somehow had band aids. He couldn't let that dumbass parade around like that for the rest of the evening.

“I've sobered up a bit, I can keep drinking,” he said as Y/N finished clumsily bandaging his face, “I probably look worse that i did when i crashed in Vegas.”

Her friend tried to be serious, but it was impossible to stay serious around Lando. "You have to be careful, Lan," she said, trying to retain some sanity and touching his cheek, looking into his eyes, "I hope it's not broken."

"Bwoken," he repeated in silly voice, giggling "Oh no, it couldn't be bwoken"

"Honestly, i also hope it is not," Max interjected when he managed to rejoin his friends after some time, "Getting to the hospital now would be a near miracle."

"Hey, I'm fine," he said as Max waved the Band-Aids in his face and began to remove the clumsy bandage into which their friend had probably poured her whole heart and a few drinks that she drank earlier.

"I'm glad you don't feel anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't look at it," he replied, lifting his chin and examining his nose from every angle. Luckily this one seemed fine.

Once Max had placed two tiny patches on him, Y/N handed him his mug with a fresh drink again. "Brave patient," she smiled at him.

"In a state like this, I'd be surprised if he felt something," Max admitted, taking a bottle of vodka standing nearby. He decided that since Lando had had an accident, nothing worse awaited them and he could allow himself to loosen a bit more. He took a few sips and handed the bottle to the younger one, who smiled, tightening his hand around it. He looked at his friends standing in front of him, slightly drunk but still fully focused on him. He knew he was important to them and that he is not alone in all this madness.

"I love you guys," he said, with a bottle in his hand, pushing himself off the railing and hugging them, "You are the best in the world, simply the best."

The rest of the day and later in the evening took place in a great atmosphere and the party lasted until 3. in the morning. For the rest of Amsterdam it probably lasted longer, but for Lando it began to end after two o'clock, when he was barely able to stand. Partly from being drunk, partly from being tired. He didn't stand still during a single song, so the next day, apart from his face, his legs will certainly be visible. Taking a break for something warm to eat, Max, Y/N, and Lando sat down at one of the wooden tables. While waiting for their orders, Lando rested his head on Y/N's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was obvious that he just needed something to lean on to fall asleep.

"I think it's time for us to go," the girl announced, directing her words to Max. "The baby is only fit for bed now."

"He's been in great shape for a long time anyway, judging by how much he was on his feet today," Max concluded, glancing first at him and then at the girl, "But you're holding up pretty well, aren't you?"

"Yes, I do," she nodded and hugged Lando, who began to slide off her shoulder, "But I'm also getting sleepy."

"Me too," Max rubbed his face with his hands, "At least we can be sure that no one will wake us up first thing in the morning to explore the city."

He said, glancing at Lando, who was dozing with his mouth open on his friend's shoulder. After eating casseroles and fries, which were for Lando and which he was unable to eat, the three of them went to the girl's apartment. Of course, only she and Max were walking on their own, Lando was between them, leaning on their arms. He was muttering something incomprehensible under his breath, so it was obvious that he was alive and everything was fine, besides the fact that he was completely drunk.

When they arrived at the address and crossed the threshold of the apartment, they immediately went to put him in the bedroom, not wasting time in unfolding the couch for him. Max was in the process of stripping him of his shoes, pants, bloody sweatshirt, and all the necklaces and ribbons he had collected the previous day, while Y/N placed a large bottle of water, painkillers, and a bucket by his bed, as if the contents of his stomach had suddenly decided that they wants to get outside. However, there was no indication that Lando was going to have a restless night, because he started snoring softly as soon as his cheek touched the pillow. Max covered him with the blanket and took a few steps away from the bed, standing next to his friend who was looking at the sleeping boy.

"Can you hear that?" Max whispered, glancing at her, and she frowned questioningly, "It's silence, listen to it, because when he gets up, the only thing you can hear will be his lamentations about how hungover he is."

The girl snorted quietly and shook her head, taking Lando's clothes to the laundry.

"The most important thing is that he had a good time. And a little hangover never killed nobody."

The next day, however, did not bring anything unexpected. When Lando woke up, the first thing that hit him was a terrible headache that got worse when he sat down and tried to get out of bed. When he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, Y/N and Max's eyes immediately went towards him and Lando could swear that they looked like they spent the entire last evening on the couch.

"Hi honey, did you sleep well?" Max asked playfully, in the perfect mood for jokes since he himself was fine after last night.

Lando just blinked several times and wanted to wipe his face with his hands and collect some words to answer, but when he touched his cut nose, he cursed loudly.

"What the fuck?"

"A souvenir from yesterday," the girl answered him, getting up from the couch and taking out a frozen package from the fridge, which she handed to him, "I recommend a shower and I'll make you some coffee."

He closed his eyes and put the package to his nose, sighing and grabbing the bathroom door handle. Before he disappeared, Max just shouted after him.

"And don't puke in the shower!"

[bloomzone]

GLOW UP DIARY : #1.MINDSET IS EVERYTHING

Life is beautiful galaxy be a writer, genre is fantasy what opens up to me tomorrow is a big, big stage so that is who I am

- ive (song : i am )

Hey heeey sparkles...today is the first part of glow up diary "mindset"..so grab ur notebook and let's guaaaar !

by: 𖧷´ bloomzone 𝅄 ׂׅ

#1 MINDSET

First of all bbg ur mindset is more than just a mindset it's a guiding force that influences how you perceive the world, respond to challenges, and ultimately create the life you envision.

THE IDGAF MINDSET IS THE KEY !

﹙ ✿ ﹚they don't like you..they don't like ur style,hair,music taste, interests ? I DON'T CARE YOU ARE YOU I'M ME ! the idgaf mindset is the solution.. everytime someone say something bad about u think and answer like ok and ? Who the fvck care ?. Stop caring about what ppl think about you IT'S YOU VS YOU stop caring about what other say about u . For example if one of ur friends come up to you and say "____ talk sh* about u" don't ask about what that person said abt u it doesn't matter cuz ur life revolve around u and only u. Life become easier once you stop reacting to negativity and that the GOAL cut off friends who bring don't bring u happiness and only bad mood but surround yourself with friends who bring u positivity and motivate you.

TIPS AND HOW TO START BUILDING YOUR OWN MINDSET:

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ start with listening to podcasts (click here) watch thewizardliz (click here) it will help u so much.💞

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ break up with friends who hurted you before if they are from ur family distance urself ;)

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ stop and STOP creating bad scenario on your mind cuz it will effect on ur mood , be positive 🎀

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ make yourself a propriety act like the person u want to become and always be grateful of what u have rn don't say "why ___ is more popular than me" "why I'm not this pretty?" Cuz this will effect u and u will start overthinking..so be grateful of what u have cuz god have always a better plan for u honey !💌

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ stay private don't tell ppl ur goal and ur future plan !

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ don't listen to ppl who will bring u down they choose to hate u let them sit with that feeling it's not ur fault to focus on your self girlie 🎀

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧ start to don't give a sht about what ppl say behind your back stop oversharing ur personal life (this is the big fault ..u should avoid this and trust me pretty that oversharing=problems)

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧just be yourself but with a better mindset cuz u are the only one who know your worth never let anyone costume u or disrespect you "you changed" always say yes for my worth for my future self what do you think u are ? .. if they don't call u, don't respond to ur text put ur phone away go have a good day set boundaries make ppl respect you like if u walk in a room ppl will say "she an unbothered queen fr".You live for yourself sweetie everyone else is second. 💌

ıllı ⠀ : 🎀 i believe in you and you should believe in yourself to make it happen..take care xoxo .

by: 𖧷´ bloomzone 𝅄 ׂׅ ׂׅ ⠀ ♡ ⠀ !!

[4st4rion]

some close proximity

ao3 link

just over 1k; astarion is in a bad mood, u make him feel better, kissing ensues. second person pov (astarion x you) and fully gender neutral. mild act 3 spoilers!

Astarion has been in a bad mood all day, and, frankly, you're fucking sick of it.

You don't confront him in front of everyone, because you're not an asshole, but you wait until it's just the two of you left in your rooms at the Elfsong, everyone else gone to have dinner and drink downstairs.

He's about to leave, too, but you stop him with a hand on his arm.

"Astarion," you say, hoping it comes off as gently as possible.

He whips around, brows furrowed together in an angry expression.

"What?"

You raise your eyebrows at him. He's really in a bad mood if he's being this short with his own lover.

"Astarion," you repeat, firmly this time. "What's going on with you today?"

A hundred emotions war over his face — first it's the anger at being called out, then denial that anything is wrong, then guilt and regret for snapping at you, and his eyes avoid your own as he heaves a dramatic sigh.

"Nothing," he lies, in that near-hysterical pitch he has when he's worked up. "We're only lingering in my ex-master's hunting grounds, staying at the tavern I used to hunt," he says. "How could I possibly be anything but ecstatic to hang around?"

You frown.

"Is that what it is?" you ask, ignoring the part of you that wants to get defensive about his tone with you. "Astarion, you're safe with us," you remind him, taking his hand and holding it intently. "None of us would let any harm come to you."

He flinches like he's going to pull his hand away, but decides not to.

"How do you know?" he mutters, still not looking at you. "Cazador himself could come find us any night."

"He'd be a fool to," you hum. "You're surrounded by allies, and you're no longer under his control."

You squeeze his hand.

"Cazador is probably cowering right now, afraid of his own death, knowing we're in the city," you say, and that almost gets Astarion to smirk.

"I'm sure he's shitting himself," Astarion says sarcastically, but you roll with it.

"And pissing, too," you add. "He's running out of pants from how often he's shitting and pissing himself."

That, stupid as it is, makes Astarion laugh.

He glances at you, then scoffs, still smiling.

"I hate that you make me feel better," he admits, winding his fingers around yours. "Little shit."

You smile back.

"I'm your little shit, though," you say, before you can consider whether you should or not, and he goes still.

"Are you?" he asks, softly. Cautiously.

"A little shit?" you ask, giving you both the chance to escape this conversation, but he only laughs one amused huff.

"No," he says. "Are you? Mine?"

The look in his eyes is dangerous; you want to pull him into a kiss and never stop, give him anything and everything, let the world melt around you in favor of giving yourself to him, body and mind and soul.

"Maybe," you say, trying to sound coy but sounding nervous, instead.

The hand that isn't in yours comes to up pet you, his thumb running over your cheekbone and your lower lip before he leans in to kiss you. It's as intoxicating as ever, and you let yourself relax as the two of you kiss over and over in your shared room.

Your free hand holds him at his hip, first, then at his waist, pulling him in until the two of you are flush together. He won't stop kissing you, stealing your breath away and swallowing anything you may have to say about the situation.

"Are you mine?" he asks again, once you're flustered and weak in the knees.

You swallow thickly.

"Might be," you admit, but it's not what he wants to hear — his hands leave you to guide you by your hips, back until your legs meet your comfortable daybed and you tumble down onto the mattress.

He climbs on top of you, and you'd compare him to a predator if he wasn't giggling quietly to himself as he bullies between your legs. You can't help but laugh, too, because it's a little ridiculous, isn't it? You've been together, been something, since you helped the tieflings at Emerald Grove, fighting side by side and barely ever apart — it should be easy enough to admit that you're his.

He pulls your shirt off of you and sets to laying kisses down your neck and chest, paying extra attention just under your ear until you know there's going to be a lovebite worried into your skin.

"Bastard," you mutter, but he only laughs again.

"Everyone already knows we're together," he reasons. "I might as well mark you."

His words send something hot creeping under your skin. You'd like that, you think — being marked as belonging to someone. How different is a lovebite from a wedding ring, when you think about it? Or a collar, or a scar? It's a symbol of ownership, isn't it?

"Don't tempt me to do the same," you threaten, even though that thought sends something even hotter through you. He'd look good with a ring of bruises bitten around his neck, outlines of your teeth indented in his skin.

He bites at your neck, not drawing blood but not gently, and it startles a quiet noise out of you.

"Tell me you are mine," he says this time, and you can't deny it any longer.

"I'm yours," you sigh, as his teeth make themselves at home in your neck.

"Only mine," he growls, and you laugh. You've certainly been getting hit on a lot lately, yeah; between the Emperor shooting his shot and having to stop Halsin from confessing his feelings, it's no surprise he's feeling possessive.

"Only yours," you purr. You drape your arms over his shoulders and pull him closer, arching against him to press your body up to his and baring your neck for him. "I haven't thought of anyone but you since we met," you admit, your voice as low and sultry as you can manage.

He whines against you and takes your offering, biting into your neck with his fangs and drawing blood. It doesn't happen every time you have sex, and it doesn't always lead to sex, but sex and feeding are entwined enough that one tends to tangle into the other. Not that you mind, far from it — his bite becomes pleasantly numb as he drinks from you and the mild lightheadedness only adds to how dreamy it is every time you get intimate with him.

"You mean everything to me," you say, slow and sleepy-sounding, everything getting further and further away as he drinks. "You are everything to me."

He makes another desperate noise into your veins and pulls up, away. His mouth seals over the same spot to suck the last trickles of blood that ooze up and he licks to help the wound begin to heal, his tongue especially familiar here.

As soon as he trusts your skin not to split back open, he's moving up to kiss you again. You'd be more disturbed by the taste of your own blood on his tongue if you weren't used to it by now.

"You are mine," he shudders between kisses. "Just as I am yours," he adds, his voice full of fake confidence.

"You are," you immediately affirm, wanting him to know it's true and it's mutual.

"Not like I was his," he hisses. “In a different way."

You nod against him.

"A better way," you agree, and he nods, too, kissing you even harder.

You stay that way for a good, long while, tangled together on the bed. Time and place melt away; the only things that exist or have ever existed are the two of you, here, now, together, and the quiet sounds of love between your mouths.

It's good.

It's perfect.

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |12|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Killing, Talks of Murder

Word Count: 2.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Tara ran off almost instantly after Mindy said the shrine would be the killers lair, then pointed out this wasn’t a normal Stab movie. Sam moved to go after her sister, despite trying to play everything as normal and as if the attack last year changed nothing, she knew Tara was struggling. Kirby waved her off though and said she’d check on Tara herself. Sam frowned but she knew it was probably better if Kirby went, she had been through this before and every time Sam tried to talk to Tara it almost always ended in an argument.

Sam turned back to the display case that contained the cloak of Billy Loomis. Her eyes trailed from the white mask down to the blood knife at the bottom. So, many lives were ruined just by Billy putting on a stupid costume. She wasn’t sure who could possibly be after them this time, though she didn’t expect her boyfriend to be the bad guy last time either. Whoever was coming after them did their research though, they had everything from each of the Ghostface attacks, going back all the way to the very beginning. She noticed there was even a small display about Sidney’s mom, the murder that started it all.

Sam didn’t know how to protect everyone. Two random kids were killed, which Sam couldn’t care too much about because they were apparently planning to kill her and her sister, but then she was attacked at the gym, she only survived because of you. Since then, the attack at the bodega and then the attack at the apartment, everyone had only survived because of you. She didn’t know where they’d be without you, who else would be dead. She knew she still had to be cautious around you, but you were proving more and more that you were trustworthy and nothing like Richie.

The floor creaked behind her, and she froze. She slowly lifted her head to see you through the glass, standing behind her. You hadn’t said a word, you hadn’t pressed her for answers too hard, answers you rightly deserved. She owed you an explanation about everything, who she was and why this was all happening. You knew who she was, but Sam owed it to you to tell you everything from her own mouth.

“Are you okay?” You asked, finally breaking the silence.

Sam turned around and saw you looking at her with nothing but concern. She wasn’t sure how you could see all of this, see this mess that went all the way back to her birth father and not flinch. There was still no judgement in your eyes, you were looking at Sam with the same kindness you always had. Your first question since seeing all this wasn’t to demand an explanation or ask who any of these people were, you just asked if she was okay, you truly were too good for her.

“Why are you still here?” Sam asked as she spun around. “You’ve been cut and stabbed,” she gestured at you. “Shot at, almost died three times all for some stranger who goes to your gym.” She shrugged, you might have been too good for her, but you also seemed to be crazy.

You only smiled at her words, making her furrow her brow. Maybe you really were her type, you were definitely crazy. “I assure you; this is nothing compared to what I’ve been through,” you said. “And you’re not just some girl from my gym anymore, I think I know you well enough to not want you to get murdered.”

Sam shook her head. You were military, special forces at that, you had definitely seen some things. With the way you handled yourself, first with the knife, then the gun, and then even in the apartment you used your surroundings to your advantage, nearly choking Ghostface out with a curtain. You could more than handle yourself, Sam could only imagine what you would do with the right equipment and an actual plan instead of getting caught off guard. But this wasn’t some war zone, you were at home, you shouldn’t be fighting for your life like this.

“You don’t know me,” Sam mumbled. “Not really, but if you insist on sticking around you should probably know what you’re getting into.” Sam walked across the stage and took a seat, letting her legs hang off the edge. You slightly followed after her, taking a seat right next to her but leaving enough space so the two of you weren’t touching.

Sam stared across the theater, Ethan was walking around, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looked around, Bailey stared at a few of the displays, furrowing his brow at the sight of some things. She looked to the side to see Gale staring longingly at one of the displays, Sam could only assume it had something to do with Dewey. Then there was Mindy, crouched down as she tried to comfort Anika off to the far end, with Chad standing a couple feet away, his arms crossed as his own eyes scanned over the group.

Sam clenched her hands into fists. She had heard a bunch of crap about her life and her family ever since that world learned the truth. She had known the truth since she was a teenager, she had spoken the words more than once. For some reason just opening her mouth to tell you seemed impossible. You could go online right now and find several articles talking about what she was about to tell you, saying the words out loud shouldn’t be a big deal.

“Whatever you say,” you said, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. “I promise you; it won’t change anything.”

Sam glanced at you and saw nothing but patience and understanding in your eyes. No one could really say nothing would change until they knew whatever it was, but you truly believed what you were saying. Sam knew she shouldn’t doubt you, you knew the rumors, you knew the basics, and you still stuck around. Everyone who learned the truth though ran and when they didn’t run it was usually because they had an ulterior motive, or they betrayed her.

“When I was younger, I learned my father wasn’t who I thought he was,” Sam let out a shaky breath as she got started. “My real father is Billy Loomis.” She could hear you suck in a breath at the name. “He’s the one who inspired all this,” she gestured around the room. “A year ago, my sister was attacked, by her best friend.” Sam shook her head, there were times she still couldn’t believe last year happened. Amber had never liked her growing up, but she always just figured Amber was an angry kid, she never imagined the girl would be a serial killer.

“Turns out it was all a ploy to lure me back home,” Sam let out humorless chuckle. “My now ex,” she wrinkled her nose. She couldn’t believe she had fallen for Richie, he had been so sweet and charming, that should have been the first indicator that something was wrong with him. “Set it up. He manipulated me, pretended to love me, then he tried to kill me,” she shook her head. “Oh, and he was apparently cheating on me the whole time with Amber.”

“Your ex, that was-”

“Richie,” Sam cut you off. “He tracked me down, became my co-worker, then friend, and then…”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“And it was all to make a stupid movie,” she scoffed. “He’s dead. I made sure of that. So, is Amber.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam looked at you with a furrowed brow, after everything she just said she wasn’t expecting another, I’m sorry’. “He might have been an asshole and a psychopath.” Sam couldn’t help but chuckle at your bluntness. “But whatever you felt for him was real, that doesn’t just automatically end because of what he did. It’s okay to be hurt or even feel bad about it.”

Sam nodded, no one had ever told her that before, well her therapist did but she dismissed it at the time. “But I don’t feel bad,” Sam whispered. “I don’t feel bad one bit,” Sam let out a humorless chuckle. “It felt good to kill him after what he did to me.”

Sam rested her head in her hand as she looked at you. You were looking down at the ground with your eyebrow scrunched up in concentration. “Someone started rumors about me online,” Sam said, making you look up, your brow still scrunched together. “Saying I set the whole thing up last year, that I killed my boyfriend, and he was actually the hero.” Sam shook her head, despite Sidney being there, despite all the police statements, the world seemed to believe some random reddit user over the facts.

“The world sees me as just another killer,” Sam shrugged. “Just like my father.” Sam ran a hand through her hair. “Now you know what a mess my life is,” she scoffed. “Why it would be a terrible idea to get involved with me.”

She thought back to the kiss the two of you shared just the other day. She had stopped it; she said she couldn’t. She told herself it was because she couldn’t fully trust you, she didn’t want to risk getting involved with someone else. The truth was she didn’t want to bring someone into her life, it was such a mess, she didn’t want someone else having to deal with the looks and the comments. You certainly didn’t deserve to be with someone like that, you were too good for all that, you deserved to have someone normal, someone who wouldn’t potentially get you stabbed every other day.

You had been silent most of the time and when Sam looked at you, she saw you nodding along. “Your life is a mess,” you finally said. Sam couldn’t help but smile, you were still as blunt as ever, she found she kind of liked that about you.

“About a year ago I was shot,” you said, your voice becoming distant as if you were going back to the memory. Sam furrowed her brow, she had seen the scars all over your body, she knew you had been shot before, she never imagined one of those injuries was so recent though. “Centimeters from my heart.” You kept touching a spot over your heart, Sam could only assume it was where you were shot. “It’s why I’m in town.”

“But you seem fine,” Sam said. Kirby said it was odd you were in town for longer than usual, that you were stationed in North Carolina. Kirby also said you were still active duty, if you had been injured enough to be discharged then that would be one thing but if you were healed and still active duty it didn’t make sense for you to be home for so long.

“Physically I am,” you rasped out. You were looking across the theater, but it was clear your mind was somewhere else. “But up here,” you tapped your head. “Haven’t been cleared,” you clenched your jaw.

“You seem pretty sane to me,” Sam offered. You were the most stable person she had met, which maybe she wasn’t the best judge in that department knowing her track record.

You huffed out a laugh at that. “Well, not according to my therapist. She won’t clear me until I talk about what happened.” Sam thought back to when you had told her you had a therapy appointment, you had said it was mandatory, that meant you were ordered to see your therapist, it wasn’t something you willingly went to like she did.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” If you had been seeing your therapist this long and it still didn’t seem like you were any closer to getting clear that meant you probably hadn’t talked about whatever it was yet. Sam might have been comfortable seeing a therapist and wanted to talk about her issues, but she knew that wasn’t the case for everyone, her sister in particular refused to see a therapist or talk about what happened in any meaningful way.

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s been long enough.” Sam remained silent as she nodded, she would give you as much time as you needed. “We had been deployed for a few months, it was supposed to just be a peacekeeping mission,” you shook your head. “Had done plenty of them before, meant to help build relations, and make connections. But then…”

You blinked away tears that had begun to fill your eyes, but you never let them fall. “A local militia attacked, we were caught off guard, we’re meant to always be prepared but it had been months without incident,” you continued. You cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice as unwavering as possible. “My whole team was killed, my brothers,” you buried your head in your hands.

Sam sucked in a breath; out of everything she was expecting you to say it certainly wasn’t that. She couldn’t imagine the guilt you must be living with being the only survivor of something like that. The only reason she was as okay as she was was because of her sister and Chad and Mindy, without them she couldn’t imagine what she’d be like. They might not have liked to talk about what happened, but they relied on each other, they leaned on each other when one was struggling, and they celebrated together when something good happened.

“I was meant to die that day,” you whispered. “I should have,” you shook your head. You pressed your palm against your eyes before finally lifting your head again. “Somehow the bullet missed my heart, and the rescue team got to me just before I bled out.”

Sam opened and closed her mouth a few times. She wasn’t even sure where to begin with something like this, she was pretty sure there was nothing she could say to comfort you.

“See?” you said, giving her a tired smile. “I got just as much baggage as you.” Sam gave you a sad smile. “But I promise you, I’m much more screwed up, you don’t want any of this,” you gestured at yourself. “Coming into your life. Trust me,” you whispered. “It’s you who’s better off not getting involved with me.”

Sam opened and closed her hand. She wanted nothing more than to reach for you, to try and comfort you. She didn’t believe you; she was definitely not better off without you. You didn’t deserve anything that had happened to you, you weren’t to blame for your team dying. Ever since Sam had met you, all you had done was prove how good you were, you protected her, you joined the group to help protect everyone when you didn’t even know them. You told her your story as if you were warning her to stay away but it only proved to her that you truly were one of the good ones.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

@luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423 @rayisaknight

@assgradiangod @canyonyodeler @marsyay78

[catbolt]

— RESONANCE

[SOUNDTRACK] Spell #6 - Part Time || ▶︎

You resonate for the first time with Sylus-- in bed.

[TAGS] sylus x mc, smut (wholesome lovey dovey sex while resonating), vanilla, vulnerable!Sylus, mc taking the lead, cockwarming

[A/N] ngl despite all the spicy banner frenzy im still kinda reeling over the sylus myth i just finished getting thru so this is me coping

[WC] 3k

songfic 4/?

Thick carpets of rain cascade down outside, rhythmically pattering on the window as she snuggles into Sylus’ shoulder a little closer under the blankets. He chuckles, the low vibrations of his laugh reverberating through her. “What, are you getting scared on me now?” “No,” she protests, eyes flicking from the gory scenes playing out on the TV at the foot of the bed up to Sylus’ warm gaze as he looks down at her. 

“Funny, because I could have sworn you just shivered against me.” He playfully squeezes his thigh where her hand rests. 

“Did not,” She insists, moving to pinch his arm in retaliation. He lets out a grunt of surprise. “Plus, I was the one who suggested it. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I was scared.”

“Fine, touche,” Sylus relents with a chuckle. “But you totally shivered.” “Maybe I’m cold,” she mutters.

“Cold?” He pulls up the blankets higher over both of them. “Want me to get another blanket?” “It’s fine. I can think of another way you can warm me up.” She smirks in his direction, but finds he’s completely missed the innuendo, instead just innocently pulling her closer to him, wrapping his big arms around her as they snuggle closer. His fingers trace soothing lines over her back. “I’m warm. If you get closer to me, it should rub off on you,” he murmurs softly. 

She chuckles to herself at this odd moment of innocence from someone who’s usually so sharp and sardonic, wrapping her arm around him in turn. In this position, she’s barely even able to see the TV, only the flashing lights reflected on the ceiling and Sylus’ face. She watches him for a while as his eyes remain trained on the screen.

“That part was so gross,” he mutters, gesturing to the screen. “Why did they have to make it like–” as he meets her eyes, he realizes they’ve been on him the entire time as she rests nestled in his arms. He lets out a soft huff. “You aren’t even paying attention. I can’t be more interesting than the movie. They just killed off like five of the characters at once.” “Oh, I think you’re a lot more interesting,” she responds with a gentle laugh. 

“Am I?” He says, eyes flickering back to the movie for a moment once more before she has his full attention. He leans over her, his arms fully encircling her under the soft blankets. One of his hands rises to stroke her cheek gently and his voice falls to nothing more than a whisper. “Do you want me to pause the movie?” 

He’s barely audible over the sound of the storm outside, cracks of thunder starting to mingle with the rain that has become torrential and relentless in its assault against the window.

“We don’t have to pause it. It seems like you were enjoying it.” As she looks at him she’s caught in his arresting crimson gaze. The feeling is like being stuck in molasses, her entire body entirely surrounded, submerged completely in the aching warmth of it. 

“How about I just lower the volume?” he murmurs, his hand momentarily slipping out from under the covers to find the remote. “You have my full attention, sweetheart.” A small smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth as she takes in how off-kilter she suddenly looks, as if he’s seeing her for the first time again. “You look like a deer in headlights,” he murmurs, leaning down until his nose is brushing hers. “Why do you do that sometimes? When I look at you…”

She feels his soft breath against her lips and suddenly everything else– the movie, the rain– is white noise. “I don’t know,” she says softly. “I just feel overwhelmed a little when you look at me so intently.”

“Overwhelmed?” He pulls back just a hair. “In a bad way?”

“No,” she reassures him firmly, her hand snaking behind him and tangling in his hair, gently pulling him closer so their noses are once again touching. “Not in a bad way. I like how you look at me. Like I’m something precious.”

His lips curve into a gentle smile against hers as they kiss, his hands sliding around her, pulling her closer as the movie continues to play quietly in the background. The kiss is slow and languid, their limbs tangling under the covers. 

With a gentle yet firm touch, he lays her back against the pillows, his body hovering just barely over hers as he they kiss. “You are precious,” he mutters between kisses, his voice thick. 

He breaks the kiss to trails his lips across her jawline and down her neck, his hands slowly, tenderly exploring her pajama-clad form. In her mind the sounds of the movie have completely drowned into nothingness– the only thing she can hear is their shared breathing and the rustle of the sheets at Sylus’ gentle movements. It’s so damn romantic it almost takes her breath away, her body arching into each of his careful touches. 

“You know I mean that, right?” He looks down at her, his lips parted and cheeks softly flushed as his hands dip under the hem of her shirt to rest lightly against her ribcage, the gentle warmth of his palms soothing as he rubs his fingers across her torso. She nods. Though she generally prides herself on being a logical and careful person, she could never find it in her to doubt Sylus, not for even a moment. He doesn’t need to tell her how he feels. Every touch of his hand on her might as well be an utterance of reverence, a prayer, the tenderness and yearning somehow palpable each time his fingertips make contact.

Her hand steals one of his from where it massages her sides, and she intertwines her fingers with his, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm. “I know it.”

He captures her lips in another kiss, unbearably slow and kind, as his free hand still beneath her shirt caresses each inch of her stomach and ribs. Both of them are too preoccupied to notice as a soft golden light begins to leak from between their locked palms, pulsing softly as her Evol reacts with his for the first time.

What makes Sylus’ eyes finally flutter open is the sudden warmth he feels in the palm of his hand. He gazes to the side at their clasped hands by her head, eyes widening. “Baby,” he says, voice hoarse with feeling. “You’re… resonating with me.”

Her eyes are drawn to the shining light as well. She almost feels like there’s a pearl in her palm, something round where the light emanates, that seems to pulse like it’s living. “Oh, wow,” she says breathlessly, watching as the light slowly strengthens and steadies. 

“But I don’t know what it is,” she murmurs. “It’s different depending on what Evol I’m resonating with, and the needs of the specific situation… and I’ve never resonated in this kind of situation before, obviously…” 

He laughs softly at that, gently rotating their interlaced hands so he can peer between them. “What happens now?” “I don’t know. I mean, your Evol is energy manipulation, so this must be some form of an amplification of that.” She gazes up at him, heart racing in her chest. 

“I want to keep kissing you,” he murmurs, then squeezes her hand. 

He doesn’t need to say it twice. She leans upward, kissing him deeply, her mouth opening greedily in invitation for his tongue as their hands remain interlinked. The glow pulses like a heartbeat, sending pleasant warmth through them both. It’s a soft, nonviolent energy, manifesting not with the intent to attack or defend, but simply to be. To mingle and grow in their togetherness.

She finally comes up for air, her breaths deepening. “Hold on,” she murmurs, and gently she disentangles her fingers from his, their palms separating. The glow dissipates between them, making Sylus’ eyes flicker with a tinge of sadness, but when his hand returns to her body and slides down her side, a faint soft glow accompanies the movement. He blinks. “It’s still here,” he mumbles. 

She reaches out, her hands now seeking his body. She lays her palms flat on his chest and the gentle glow blooms again, barely visible through the fabric of his shirt, though the gentle heat that grows and grows slowly as she leaves them there is undeniable. He gasps at the contact, gazing down at himself. “I’m gonna take it off,” he says, hands coming over his head to roughly pull off his shirt. He grips her wrists, bringing her hands up to rest on his now-bare chest again, the light now uninhibited and visible to both of them.

“It’s beautiful,” he says. “You’re doing this… it’s incredible.”

“I’m only able to do it because of you,” she adds on quietly “It’s your Evol that I’m using to create… whatever this is.” 

Gradually they shed their clothes, movie long forgotten. He’s desperate to touch her, to see the gentle light dance across her skin, to revel in the magic she’s creating. His heart pounds with adrenaline and desire as she pulls her shirt off to reveal her body, his hands that come up to cup her breasts leaving searing coins of light across her skin where they touch. Her own hands seek and massage him, growing more and more insistent as her arousal builds. Something about the fact that everywhere she touches is marked with the evidence of their resonance sends something constricting around her heart, making it hard for her to swallow like her throat has closed. 

As she tugs down his sweats and boxers, the glow deepens, turning more orange and red as it flickers like candle light in each spot she puts her fingers. “Your Evol…” she murmurs with wonder. “It’s starting to resemble your Evol more.”

“Is that…bad?” He looks down at the glowing marks on his hips where she’s just held him. For a moment, a flare of panic rises in his chest. His Evol… violent and relentless, a force for killing. He wants nothing more than for it to never touch her, for her to never see it, for her to never know the pain he is capable of causing. Not his beautiful girl. He withdraws his hands from her body as fear overcomes him. “Does it hurt?” “No,” she reassures him, catching his hands before he can fully pull away. “Baby, don’t worry. I’ll tell you if it hurts, okay?” She pulls him closer, spreading her legs and hooking them behind his. 

The heat of her core is a stark contrast to the coolness of the sheets, and the light between them flares up at the contact, a warm glow enveloping them both. “It’s… it’s reacting to this?” “I guess so,” she laughs softly, still mesmerized at the lights that glow in the darkness on his skin like little fireflies where she’s touched. Slowly she grinds her hips against his, needing more contact. Her slick heat coats his length as she slowly rocks her hips up and down against it. His hands tentatively find her waist again, still scared of causing her pain, but when her face shows no sign of anything other than pleasure he grips a little firmer, helping her move up and down. She groans softly as the head pushes through her wet folds again and again, grazing her clit with each soft movement.

His breath comes in ragged gasps now, the light between them intense enough that they're practically glowing in the darkness. He guides himself between her legs with trembling hands. “Should I– do you…” He trails off, his usual silver-tongued eloquence deserting him.

“I want to,” she nods, her legs parting further. “And you’ll tell me if it starts hurting or feeling uncomfortable in any way?” His thumb draws soothing circles against her hip, leaving a glowing red mark, as the other gently hoists one of her legs over his shoulder.

“I’ll tell you,” she murmurs, eyes heady with desire. “But I have a feeling nothing’s going to hurt us.” She gently squeezes his thigh where she can reach, attempting to soothe his worries a little. 

He pushes into her slowly, the light between them pulsing with each inch. The resonance seems to hum with approval, light wrapping around them both like tendrils, similar to how Sylus’ Evol alone reaches and grabs like a red flurry. But this light is softer, tender, encircling them, as if binding them together. She gasps out in pleasure, the sensation and warmth and fullness almost too much to bear as he fills her completely.

He looks down at where they’re joined, seeing the faint light pulsing between them like a heartbeat. Sheathed completely in her, every sensation is somehow amplified by their resonance,  to the point where he swears he can feel her heartbeat through where they connect, his own heart falling easily in time.

“Move baby,” she pleads, her body taut with pleasure. “Please…”

Nodding, he begins to move his hips slowly, as if in fear of disturbing this delicate balance they’ve found. But the resonance seems to encourage him. He picks up his speed gradually, attuned deeply to every movement of her body and expression on her face, searching for signs of discomfort.

 “Oh god,” she moans softly, turning her head into the pillow. It always feels good like this with him, but this time is uniquely special. As she gazes up at him she watches as golden threads of light wrap across his chest and waist, following each curve of his body gently as he makes love to her. “You’re beautiful, Sy…”

His hips stutter at her hushed endearment, drawing a strangled gasp from him as he tries to reestablish his rhythm. Her slick walls constrict around him as he buries his head in her neck, groaning softly as he pumps in and out of her. The golden threads seem to tug them closer with each passing moment. He whispers softly into her ear, his lips finding her neck. “Does it feel good?” 

He’s embarrassed that he needs this reassurance right now, but his body is trembling with fear, scared that somehow his Evol will rear its head and make this much less pleasant. His touches on her sides are delicate, soft, making sure each mark that the resonance leaves on her skin is just a barely-there pinprick of light. 

“It feels amazing,” she says softly, gently running her hands down his back. “Don’t hold back. It’s okay.” 

He bites back his fear, peppering soft wet kisses against her neck and feeling the heat radiate back to him in the red glowing marks that blossom in the wake of his lips. He continues rocking into her, his pace slowly increasing, their panting breaths mingling together as they both near their respective orgasms. The resonance’s intensity grows warmer and deeper, penetrating both of them deep into their chests with the intensity of a knife but the softness of a warm blanket, the feeling enormous and extraordinary between them. “Do you feel that?” He pants between his thrusts, his hands gripping her sides softly. 

“I feel it,” she whispers between ragged moans. “It’s– It’s so–”

The words elude both of them now, and all she can do is cry out his name as her body hits her peak. He feels her inner walls spasming around him, triggering his own release as he comes crashing down over the edge right behind her, letting out a strangled cry as he fills her, ropes of his release coating her insides. Light ricochets out between where their bodies are pressed atop each other, the burst momentarily all either of them can see before it fades, disintegrating away into pinpricks of light like small stars that flicker and float in the still air. 

He wraps his arms around her possessively, holding her close as he tries to catch his breath. “That was… not normal,” he murmurs, a hint of wonder in his voice. The residual resonance tingles between them, crackling across their skin like tiny sparks.

“Far from it.” She laughs. The faint red and golden lights throughout the room twinkle softly before disappearing.

He presses a faint kiss to her forehead as he watches the lights around them fade.The end credits of the movie that was playing have long since rolled, the only light now being the sliver of moonlight cutting through the blinds behind them and the faint warm heat of the resonance that has imbued both of their skins with something akin to a bioluminescence, a soft, barely-there glow. He holds her close, as if afraid she’ll disappear. “That was special,” he says quietly, his voice raw as he buries his head in her hair, breathing in slowly, trying to gather himself. “I’ve never… experienced anything like that before.” 

“Me either,” she responds, leaning into his touch, moving so that she’s completely enveloped in him, the feeling of him still inside her only adding to the tenderness of it, the warmth as they both glow together. 

“It means something right? That you were able to resonate with me like that?” “It did,” she says, nodding. She takes one of his hands into hers. “It means we have a connection. And that I trust you.” She squeezes his hand. “That I’m yours.” “...Mine?” His voice is soft, any posturing or false confidence completely gone. “Yours. Fully.” She says firmly. “Though… I don’t think I needed the resonance to happen to know that.”

His grip tightens around her before he catches himself, not wanting to squeeze her too hard. He sighs, resting his chin on top of her head, gently stroking patterns across her back as the rain continues to pour down outside. The glow between them eventually fades into darkness, but the warmth takes its time, bathing them in it for many moments longer. By the time the after-effects of the resonance are completely gone, the both of them are asleep, curled still in each other’s arms.